


In memories lost - in memories found

by legolastariel



Series: Days trilogy [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Heartache, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Love, M/M, Separation Anxiety, The tagged character death is neither Rick nor Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: Daryl is missing.He went on a hunting trip and never came home. For months now Rick has been looking for him, but so far to no avail. He is close to a breakdown once again, but the Saviors and the upcoming war don't give him the time to despair.Together with Tara he heads out to the Hilltop to unite the three communities in the battle against their common foe.Rick is in for a surprise, when one day someone turns up in the Hilltop he never expected there. But that someone isn't the person they used to be anymore, which causes new heartache and problems. And someone's death.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I won't tag everything in order not to give the plot away. If you're curious, you'll have to read it, I guess. :-)
> 
> It's a sequel to FIRST DAY and although this story can totally be read alone, it is recommendable to read the other one first, since I am referring to it. And the original character Rose Mitchell is introduced in FIRST DAY and you don't wanna miss that. LoL 
> 
> Thanks a lot to stylepoints for doing an awesome beta job!

**In memories lost, in memories found**

 

A cool breeze ruffled Tara’s hair as she walked up the steps to the front porch, having her pull the poncho she was wearing tighter.    
The sun came up later these days, the mornings and evenings were cool with fog crawling over the meadows and trimmed lawns of Alexandria. The leaves had  changed their colors from a fresh and deep green to a vast number of autumn hues, such as yellow, orange, red and brown. It could have been so beautiful. Could have.

With a sigh she entered the house, that even after all these months several members of their group referred to as _home._ Alexandria hadn’t had any new arrivals in a long time and several houses were still unoccupied. Surely everyone could have moved into their own place by now, but for some unknown reason they still stuck together for the most part.

Abraham and Sasha had moved into their own place, probably in consideration of Rosita. The redhaired man was well aware of the fact, that his way of breaking up with the Latina had lacked every kind of sensibility and _decency._ He’d been downright rude and he had apologized to her later, but still, it would have been an awkward situation, living under the same roof with both his former and current girlfriend. At least for him, because the two ladies in question couldn’t have cared less. Especially since Rosita had found someone new.  
All of her life she had been around men, who told her what to do and when. Who thought they had to teach her the rules of life, who made her feel like she was incapable of managing on her own. None of them had ever really appreciated or needed her. Until she had met Eugene and found, that he did both – appreciate and need her. For once it was her teaching someone else. He may have had the highest IQ of all the inhabitants of Alexandria, but when it came to tying his shoe laces, he was lost. Him and Rosita, they were able to compliment each other, support and help the other – they were a unit, not just an individual with an appendix. And they truly cared for and respected one another, which may have been the essential ingredient. 

Maggie and Glenn were still in the Hilltop. Four months ago, after Negan had made his _introduction_ , they had decided to stay in the Hilltop until the baby was born, so a doctor would be close by at any time. A decision they had stuck to, but they would be back one of these days. So although their room was vacant for the time being, they could still be considered inhabitants of this house as well. And when they returned, which should be within the next like two months, there would be one more person living there. Someone, who would hopefully bring some life and laughter back into this place. 

The streets of Alexandria started to get busy. People hurried to their appointed tasks, but these days this house was always quiet. Always. As though everybody was holding their breath and walked extra cautious, spoke in whispers, eager not to disturb the silence.  
Tara didn’t mind that. It suited her state of mind perfectly.  
This house was bare of music, laughter and joy – just like her life. 

 

As though it had only been yesterday, she remembered the day that she had returned with Heath from their two-week-run.   
Two weeks. What is two weeks? Fourteen days and nights, no more. Actually a rather short period of time. How much could possibly happen in only two weeks? Now she knew. Two weeks were enough to change someone’s life; enough to _shatter_ someone’s life.   
Spencer had been on sentry at the gate that afternoon. She knew, who he was. He was the fool whose life she saved the other day, but other than that, they had never gotten too acquainted with each other. Thus she hadn’t been surprised or suspicious when his greeting was somewhat reluctant. She hadn’t given it a second thought. He was the guy who had climbed over the wall, while a herd of walkers was right underneath, so any kind of _odd_ behavior on his part didn’t really come as a surprise.   
Two steps past the gate she had already forgotten about Spencer altogether – there had been someone else on her mind and she had hurried toward the infirmary as quickly as she could without actually running.   
Fourteen days and nights didn’t sound like much, but time had the tendency to stretch to an incredible length, if you missed that one special person in your life. Her days had been busy, and the need to stay alert and focused should have distracted her enough, and yet Denise had been on her mind all the time. The nights had been painfully lonely, despite Heath’s presence; cold, despite the late summer’s warm temperatures and long with each second ticking away in slow motion, minutes stretching into hours. She had been happy beyond words to be home and couldn’t wait to see her girlfriend again.   
When she had arrived at the infirmary, calling a teasing “Honey, I’m home”, while walking through the door, Daryl had been there waiting for her. She hadn’t been too surprised about that. Denise and the archer had taken quite a shine to each other and with Denise being alone during her absense, why shouldn’t he spend time with her? They were friends.   
It had been the look in his eyes and the way he was standing in the middle of the room, motionless, frozen to the spot, clutching a can of soda pop almost violently, that had caused a very cold, sinister feeling to settle into the pit of her stomach. 

      “Daryl”, she had said cautiously. “Where’s Denise?”

Did she really have to ask? She couldn’t even tell anymore, if she had _known_ right away or not. Maybe she had hoped, he would say something like “Sorry, she broke her leg and is resting, so I’m here to greet you.” Of course, he wouldn’t have said it in so many words, but some part of her soul had been holding on to the frail hope, that this would be the explanation for Denise’s absence.   
Daryl hadn’t said anything at all. He didn’t have to. Tara had seen him press his lips tightly together in order to stop his lower lip from trembling, had seen him swallow thickly and his hands make a helpless gesture. That’s when she had started to scream.   
All strength had left her the next moment and her knees had buckled, making her sag as though she’d been shot. And she had even felt just like that, when an excruciating pain had spread in the center of her chest. He had caught her and together they had ended up sitting on the floor, in the middle of the infirmary, holding on to each other like two drowing persons to a piece of driftwood, crying.   
Up until that moment, Daryl hadn’t allowed himself to mourn Denise’s loss. He had been consumed by rage, guilt and hate. There’d been no room for tears. And he had felt that no one would have understood them really. They all had lost people. No one was spared that experience these days and most of them had to go through it more than once. Maybe he had figured, he didn’t have the right to break down over the loss of a friend, when others had lost family members or the love of their life. Maybe he didn’t want to burden anyone with his sorrow over a woman no one had really known and been close to – save for Tara.   
They were the two people who had loved Denise the most. And it was that love, that loss, that pain _,_ which had united them that day. And the guilt. Guilt for leaving her behind. Guilt for _not_ leaving her behind. They said _a sorrow shared, is a sorrow halved_ and maybe there was some truth to that saying. Maybe they were the only ones, who truly understood what the other one was feeling, and around Tara Daryl hadn’t been ashamed to cry.   
He had stayed with her that night. They had sat on the couch, side by side, and she had talked about Denise for hours, while he had listened. Dawn had almost been breaking, when she had fallen asleep in his arms, all the stories of her short relationship with Denise Cloyd shared and all the tears she had within her, shed. She was as empty as she felt, but at least she wasn’t alone.   
When she had woken after a few fitful hours of sleep, she had found herself still on the couch, carefully covered with a blanket.

 

A smile tugged at the corners of Tara’s mouth as she slowly walked to the stairs just now. She had always liked Daryl, for a reason she couldn’t even tell. They had never been very close, before Denise. And they had never spent much time with each other, before Denise. But something about the archer had always touched a soft spot inside of her. Probably the same spot he had touched in Denise. But she had never truly _known_ him, before Denise. She had no idea that behind the quiet, introverted and gruff exterior, was someone so gentle, so sensitive, so caring. 

 

At first she had thought he left, but only moments after she had opened puffy and red-rimmed eyes to a life without Denise that morning, he had walked into the room, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.   
Wordlessly he had placed it on the coffee table next to her and had kneeled on the floor before the couch, watching her with calm, shadow blue eyes.   
She’d been grateful for his presence – and the coffee. And most of all for the fact, that he didn’t ask her how she felt. If she was _alright._

Everybody had asked her that in the days after and she probably had used this entirely shallow and ridiculous phrase herself once or twice after people had lost someone. It may have been meant well, but it was the most inconciderate thing to ask. Nobody, who just lost someone they had truly loved, was _alright_ only hours or days later. The mere question was a slap to the face. It showed all too clearly that people didn’t _know,_ they didn’t _understand_ and they expected the mourning person to just get a grip and move on, unable or unwilling to deal with their sorrow. Daryl _had_ known and he had understood and he didn’t have to ask how she felt. She was not _alright._ And neither was he. 

She had taken a few sips of the coffee, quietly looking back at him, before giving a nod and whispering: “Thanks.” He had known, it wasn’t for the coffee. “Same here.”  
      He had waited patiently for her to finish her coffee, before asking her if she wanted him to tell her what happened. _Everything_ that had happened after she and Heath had left. It had taken two more mugs of the strong coffee, before she had mustered the courage to be filled in.   
He had told her about Dwight, how the man had betrayed him and had killed Denise with the crossbow Daryl let him take away from him. About Carol leaving and been missing ever since, and about Abraham breaking up with Rosita to be with Sasha. He told her about Negan. That the compound they had raided the other day, was just a minor outpost and that there were more of Negan’s men out there – a lot more. He told her about the plan to have Alexandria, the Hilltop and a new community called the Kingdom unite against the Saviors. That the three towns were training their people to go to war, soon. He told her about how he had left to go on a vendetta, with Michonne, Glenn and Rosita following him, while Rick, Abraham, Eugene, Carl and Aaron had been forced to take Maggie to the doctor’s in the Hilltop, due to problems with her pregnancy.   
He had to stop and breathe deeply a few times, before he continued to tell Tara about how they had all run into Negan’s traps. About the line-up…

Tara vividly remembered the look in Daryl’s eyes when he talked about the line-up, the terror he had felt on reliving it almost palpable. 

His voice had almost failed him, when he described the eeny, meeny, miny, mo game and how Negan had pointed his baseball bat, Lucille, at Michonne in the end, bashing her head in with brutal, horrible blows.  
Whatever he had said after that, had totally escaped Tara at that moment.   
Two weeks. She had only been gone for two weeks. Was it even possible that so much could happen in only two weeks? Denise was dead. A lunatic with a baseball bat had killed Michonne. Denise was dead. Carol was gone. Denise was dead. A war was on their hands. Denise was dead. Maggie and Glenn were at Hilltop and she was having problems with her pregnancy. Maybe she would even lose her baby. Denise was dead. Daryl and Rick were together now. Denise was dead. 

      “I need something stronger than coffee now”, she had said matter-of-factly after Daryl had fallen quiet. 

He looked exhausted from so much talking and she felt exhausted from so much listening, especially since each additional bit of information was harder to digest than the former. She had gotten up and had opened a cabinet in the back of the living room, bringing out a bottle of whiskey. Nonchalantly she had filled her empty coffee mug with the amber colored liquid and had taken a swig, before returning to her place on the couch, holding out the mug to Daryl. He had accepted it with a thankful nod and had taken a large swig of his own.   
It was in that moment, that the final bit of information he had given her, even registered. 

      “What was that? You and Rick are _together_?”

He had given her his perfect deadpan. The expression he always displayed when he tried to hide his emotions. People who knew him well enough, were aware of the fact that the less emotions were visible on his face, the more were actually _there._   
A smile had spread over her pretty face.

      “You mean, _together_ as in _together together_?” 

      “Tara.” His inflection had been clearly warning. He hated any kind of fuss over him and _his_ business. 

Throwing all caution to the wind, she had leaned in and had given him a hearty hug. It had turned out to be too hearty, because she had lost her balance up there on the couch, falling into his arms and pushing him over backwards in the process, so that they had ended up lying entangled on the floor together, a puddle of spilled whiskey around them. Naturally Rick had walked in on them in just that moment. 

      “Ain’t what ya thinkin’”, Daryl had commented gruffly. “The woman’s just gone plain nuts, ‘s all.” 

      “How do you know, that’s not exactly what I’ve been thinking?” Rick had replied teasingly, barely able to refrain from grinning, when Tara had given him the finger – again. 

He had known that, whatever he had walked in on, was not for him to worry about. Not because both participants were gay and clearly not interested in one another romantically. And not because he trusted Daryl in every respect. But because Tara’s puffy and red-rimmed eyes, as well as the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table were a good indication of what exactly had been going on here last night.   
They had both lost someone and they needed each other to overcome that loss. And if lying in a heap on the floor was part of the therapy, who was he to interfere. 

      “You two alright here?”

 

Deep in memory, Tara sighed, while walking up the steps to Rick and Daryl’s bedroom now.

There it had been again – the inevitable, meant well, yet entirely stupid question.  She had locked eyes with Daryl back then and after a few seconds the archer had answered: “We will be.” 

Rick had given a curt nod.

      “If you care for some lunch, Rosita and Eugene have been cooking up a storm. Might be a good idea to stick to liquid food”, he had pointed at the whiskey, “but I thought, I’d offer it anyway.”

Without another word he had turned around to leave, when he stopped half way out of the door and looked at Tara.  
       
      “We got a room available in our house, you know. You’re welcome to move back in, if you care for some company.”

Without waiting for an answer, he had pulled the door close behind him and had left Tara and Daryl alone again. He may have been kind of slow in catching on at times, but he knew when he was not needed. 

She _had_ moved into the offered room that day. It was the small one in back of the house, that Daryl had occupied when the group had first arrived in Alexandria. It wasn’t large, but it had the most privacy, which was exactly why Daryl had chosen it back then. It had given him some space to breathe and hear himself think in a house, that held way too many people for his liking.   
When Rick had made the offer, she had secretly dismissed it instantly. The infirmary was her home. This was the place she had been happy. This was, where she had lived with Denise, where she wanted to be. Nowhere else.   
Five minutes after Daryl had left that day, she had still thought that way. Half an hour after he had left and she had roamed the empty rooms, she had felt the cold and sinister feeling creep in once again. An hour later, she had heard her own echo and had come to realized, that this house only meant pain. Each corner, each room, each piece of furniture reminded her all too painfully, that Denise was never going to come back. It was deafening silent in here, cold, lonesome and all of her beautiful memories seemed to bounce off the walls and hit her forcefully from all directions. She couldn’t stay here. She needed people to distract her, sounds, voices, even laughter. Just life.   
Two hours after Daryl had left the infirmary, Tara had showed up at the front porch of the other house, along with the few things she called her belongings, and had moved in again. A decision, she had never regretted. If she missed Denise too much, she would go to the small cemetery by the wall, sit by her grave and talk to her. Or she would go and seek Daryl’s company. He always understood. And he always had the time to listen. She never set foot in the infirmary again. As did he.

_ “You will never forget and it will always hurt” _ , Maggie had told Daryl after Beth’s death, _“but it will get better. And some days, you can even be happy again.”_

And Tara had been happy, or at least something slightly related to happy. Having Rosita and Eugene, as well as Rick’s family around, had helped immensely and had brought a smile back to her face. There was no doubt on her mind that Daryl had the greatest share in this. She had found a friend and confident in him and in the weeks after Denise’s death, she had learned why her girlfriend had cared so much for the grumpy archer; why Rick Grimes loved him so much.   
She felt sorry for all the poor fools in this town, who still looked down on Daryl and considered him _not worth their time and affection_ , because he was a loner, _odd_ , an outsider, unfriendly, antisocial and way too unkempt for their neat white-picket-fence-neighborhood. In truth, he was a diamond in the rough, effectively concealing the gem inside behind his rough exterior. She felt blessed to be chosen worthy of the inner circle, who was allowed a closer look at Daryl Dixon’s true colors.   
Yes, she’d been somewhat happy again. _He_ had made her happy again.   
And then, one month after she had returned home to Alexandria, they had lost Daryl, too. 

 

Tara drew in another deep breath and almost cautiously approached Rick’s bedroom door. She dreaded what she would find. 

Why did the most ordinary things end up in disasters time and again these days? All Denise had meant to do, was go to a store and look for meds. All Rick had meant to do, was take Maggie to the doctor’s. All Daryl had meant to do, was go on a simple hunting trip like countless times before. 

They had no idea what went wrong that day, what exactly happened out there. And maybe they never would.   
When Daryl didn’t return that day, no one thought too much of it. Hunting trips had a tendency to last longer than planned and many times before, Daryl had stayed away over night when he had followed his game out too far or lost the light, because he hadn’t paid attention to the time while tracking.   
The days had started to grow shorter, with the sun setting earlier, so it was commonly assumed, that he stayed in the woods over night. He had made it a habit to just climb a tree and sleep up there where it was safe, so no one was overly worried. Not even Rick, and he worried easily these days, especially when it came to Daryl, Carl and Judith.   
The incident with Negan had left its scars. On all of them, but probably on Rick the most. He still felt responsible for what had happened that night, despite everybody telling him, that there was nothing he could have done. Yet he never stopped thinking, that they were all of them wrong. That he _could_ and _should_ have done something, probably long before that night, to prevent it from happening.   
Something had died deep inside of him along with Michonne. A part of his confidence, his strength, his inner fire. Negan had put him in his place. Had made him understand, that there were enemies out there way stronger than Rick Grimes and his little group and that he wasn’t as invincible as he had thought. And he wasn’t immortal, either. None of them were. They had just been lucky for a while, but their luck had run out that day.   
They had lost Michonne. One of their strongest and most capable fighters, and a good friend. A terrible separation anxiety had invaded Rick’s heart ever since that night and he barely let his children out of his sight anymore. He would have liked to do the same with Daryl, but nothing and no one would ever cage the archer. How do you cage the wind?  
He had still gone on his hunting trips, because he _needed_ to be out there in the woods, all by himself, roaming freely. That was a part of him. That _was_ him. Rick would never have tried to take that away from him. But he worried. Each and every time. 

A day went by, then a night and a second day. By the time the sun was setting once more, Rick had been at the gate, staring out into the dusk with deep lines of worry on his face. And he had stayed. Never moved an inch from his spot, waiting. The next morning, he had only reluctantly taken up his duties around town, but he had showed up at the gate at least twice an hour all day long and by nightfall, the third night without a sign of Daryl, he had been worried witless. He hadn’t slept in two days, but nothing and no one was able to make him go home and get some rest. He had spent the night at the gate again, waiting, staring out into the night with wide, fearful eyes, imploring Daryl secretly to come back, till his eyes had started to tear from fatigue as well as fright.   
As soon as the sun had come up the fourth day, Rick had mustered a search party and every available person in Alexandria had been sent out into the woods, despite multiple protests, to look for Daryl. _“He’s priority.”_ Rick had said it before and he repeated it that day, as though that would settle all concerns to risk so many lives for that of one man. 

      “We’ll find him”, Abraham had assured Rick, Sasha and Rosita at his side with a determined look on their faces. 

It may have been an awkward group to have both the ex and new girlfriend right there with him, but for Daryl those three had put all differences aside and stood as one. The group would always be _the group._ And one of their own was out there missing. This wasn’t the time for childish behavior. So the odd trio had been out in the woods along with several Alexandrians, but they had returned empty-handed. There was no sign, not a trace of the archer.  
By the end of the first week, even Eugene and Eric had joined the search party, and altough Rick had told Carl a gazillion times to stay in the house and watch after his sister, the boy was out there along with Enid as well, secretly, as soon as Rick himself had left. Going behind his father’s back wasn’t even hard to do – Rick had been the first one each day to head out and was the last to return.   
After two weeks, he was running on empty. He had barely slept, barely eaten and was close to going insane. No one had found the slightest trace of Daryl and although they didn’t say it out loud, most of them thought the same by now – that to go on searching was a lost cause.   
The archer was the most skilled tracker they had. If anyone could find their way back home, it was him. Something must have happened – he may have had an accident or had run into trouble with the Saviors. And maybe even Daryl Dixon could have missed hearing or seeing a walker in time. Either way, if he hadn’t returned by now, he probably never would. Most Alexandrians had already written him off and even among _the group_ one by one they couldn’t help assuming Daryl Dixon was gone, as much that they hated to admit it.

Morgan had put an end to the search parties. He had a fierce argument with Rick on the matter, reminding him that Rick was the leader of this town, that he had responsibilities, that the Saviors were _still_ their problem and they had a war on their hand. And that one man could barely be the reason for neglecting everything else, for endangering numerous lives each and every day. And he was right.   
Rick knew deep down inside that he was right. But the one thing Morgan didn’t understand was, that there was no _everything else_. Daryl was Rick’s world. He had only just found him few weeks before. After all the time they’d been _just_ friends, he had finally found in the archer, what he’d been looking for all his life. He couldn’t lose him now. Not so soon. There was so much he still hadn’t said, still hadn’t done. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. 

This was something Tara could relate to perfectly well. After all, she had had even less time with Denise. She didn’t even have the memories of a yearslong friendship, before they’d become lovers. But then, maybe that made it even harder for Rick – the memories of all the moments he had shared with Daryl. The length of time in which they had become a part of the other, till it was impossible to tell where one ended and the  other one began. She and Denise had only been at the beginning, so Tara’s understanding of Rick’s feelings may have barely scratched the surface. 

    
Cautiously she opened the bedroom door and stuck her head through the gap. 

      “Knock, knock”, she said softly. 

As expected, Rick was lying on the bed, unmoving, curled up on his side, one hand resting on Daryl’s half of the bed and absentmindedly stroking the covers there almost tenderly. 

      “He sleeps without a pillow, did you know that?” Rick asked almost inaudibly, not looking at her, not moving an inch. “I don’t even have a pillow to hold.”

His voice broke and he fell quiet. With a sigh, she walked over to the bed and lowered herself slowly to the edge. He flinched visibly and she immediately got up again. Daryl’s side. No one better dare touch it. That she could most definitely understand. Same as the remark about the pillow. Even after all this time, she still slept clutching Denise’s pillow tightly, although it didn’t even smell of her anymore. Still … What else did she have to hold on to?  
Rick lifted tired, red-rimmed eyes and just looked at her for a moment, as though he was hoping for a revelation, an answer, a cure, anything that could help drive the pain away. Obviously it was one of those days again. 

Even after Morgan had forced him to call off the search and send people back to their combat training and chores around town, Rick had been out in the woods every single day, looking for Daryl. Three months without a trace, without a sign of life, but he was unwilling or unable to just stop, to give up, to write Daryl off like most of the others had done by now.   
Whoever went on runs these days assured him to keep an eye out for the archer, and since Aaron had lost his second recruiter and was reluctant to go by himself, Eric had volunteered to accompany him again. Of course, those _recruiting missions_ were just a cover for more search trips.   
Yet while all the support gave Rick hope and lifted his spirit most days, there were others, when it all came crashing down. When an immense wave of hopelessness and despair washed over him and floored him, as though the ceiling had collapsed over his head. Today was one of those days. 

Tara knew that look in his eyes and why they were puffy and red-rimmed. She had seen her own eyes look back at her in the mirror like that many mornings, after nights of too little sleep and way too much crying. 

She couldn’t help sighing again. 

Some days she felt like shaking Rick, yelling at him to pull himself together. He wasn’t the only one who kept losing people. They all did, so what ever gave the man the right to fall apart each time? But the same moment she felt the urge to do so, she reconsidered instantly.   
The difference between Rick Grimes and everybody else here was, that he not only kept losing people, but had to overcome their loss, while taking care of two children and being responsible for an entire town.   
Dozens of lives entrusted to him, to his decisions, to his judgement. Dozens of people who looked to him for the way, even when he had lost it himself. Dozens of people who wanted answers, when he had none; who put the entire weight of responsibility on his shoulders till it almost broke him, only to point their finger at him the moment he stumbled and made a mistake. And he was alone in all this now, again.   
He _had_ the right to fall apart and just give in to his despair. He would get up again. He always had. All he needed was time. The problem was, time was one of the many things they didn’t have anymore these days.

Slowly she walked around the bed and sat down behind Rick’s back, looking at the thin, powerless bundle with compassion. She never appreciated his arrogance and cockiness, before Negan, but right now she almost wished for a spark of that to return. This shadow of Rick Grimes scared her more than the man, who was flying way too high not too long ago.   
In an impulse she reached out and had her hand run gently over his unruly curls. 

      “I miss him, too”, she said softly. “And we will go on looking for him, Rick. All of us. But …”

      “Good”, he cut in, obviously unwilling to listen to any ‘but’s. 

      “ _But_ ”, she insisted, “we gotta move on. I hate to admit it, but Morgan was right. The problem with the Saviors needs to be settled. They have been showing up every other week, just taking our stuff and we gotta make them stop.”

She paused, but got no reply. She wasn’t even sure Rick was listening at all.

      “Rick. If we don’t do anything, soon, we’ll be their slaves forever. Our people are ready. They’ve been training for months, gathered every kind of weapon they came across out there, and Eugene and his team have been working their ass off manufacturing more amo. We need to unite with the Hilltop and the Kingdom.”

Still there was no answer and Rick didn’t move a muscle.

      “Damn, Rick, pull yourself together!” She gave his back a rough shove. “We need our leader. Now!”

      “Was never me”, the man answered weakly.

      “What was never you?”

      “The leader. It was never me. I’ve made so many wrong decisions, lost the way so many times and look at me, Tara”, he turned around to her after all, “I’m a mess. I don’t have the strength and I don’t have the capability.”

“Bullshit, Grimes. You’ve gotten us this far and I hate to break the news to you, but you’re only human, too. So you’ve made wrong decisions and stumbled now and then. Tough shit. You always got back up. You lost your wife, and then Jessie and Michonne …” She pulled in a deep breath. “And now Daryl”, she added cautiously.   
“But you always came out on top and found your strength again. So whatever it was, that kept you going before, it will get you back on track now, too.”

He pressed his lips together and turned his back to her once more. 

      “No”, he said almost inaudibly, “it won’t. ‘Cause what kept me going before and got me back on track – that was Daryl. Every time. And he’s the one, who led the way. He told me ‘Yes’ or ‘No’, right or left … The times I lost the way and stumbled, was when I didn’t listen to him. Guess you all pretty much followed the greatest fool.”

      “Yeah, I had that feeling once or twice there, too”, she teased. “Tell you what – till we get your man back and thus someone who knows what they’re doing, _I’m_ gonna tell you what the heck to do. And right now, we’re gonna grab our gear and head to the Hilltop.” 

He craned his neck and cast a look over his shoulder to check, if she was kidding or really meant, what she’d just said. 

      “Know, why Denise was out there at all?” Tara added softly. “Because being afraid sucks. She wanted to be brave, wanted to be strong … “   
Her voice broke and she breathed in deep.   
 “Whenever I feel like giving up, I try to imagine what she’d say.”   
A spark came to her brown eyes.   
 “And Daryl would kick you into next week, if he saw you like this, Grimes.” She shoved him again. “So get your sorry ass out of this bed right now or I swear, the moment we find him, I’m gonna tell him what a pussy he’s dating.”

Despite himself, Rick had to laugh at that remark and for some strange reason, he even felt better. He sat up and looked Tara in the eyes, while a smirk still played around his lips. 

      “He already knows.” He winked at her. Then he swung his legs out of bed and got up, while she did likewise. 

For a moment they just stood in front of each other, silently. Then he said softly:

      “Thanks. Guess, I needed that kick in the teeth.” He walked past her to the door, but before he even reached it, he turned back around and added: “But if you shove me one more time, I’m gonna lock you into a closet and toss the key.” 

      “Pff, yeah, I’ve heard from Enid that you Grimes men like doing that.”

That brought another smile to his face, before he headed out the door, not hearing her mutter behind his back: “I’m just gonna punch you next time.”     


	2. Chapter 2

Tara followed Rick outside the bedroom, headed for the stairs, secretly watching him as he walked in front of her. His curls were too long, he hadn’t shaved in days, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty from having been worn day and night for too long and he was way too thin, but she didn’t say a word. Just followed him downstairs and through the living room toward the kitchen.

_The moment we find him …_

She had dropped that remark intentionally. As a reminder, that Daryl may have been missing for months, but _missing_ didn’t mean he was dead. There was still hope. If anyone could survive out there all by themselves, it was Daryl. They had lost people before and found them again. Not many. And not after several months, but it did happen. It could happen. If the dead were able to walk, everything was possible these days. 

Yet Tara didn’t envy Rick for that _possibility,_ for that _hope._ Denise may be dead, but at least she _knew._ She had an answer, was aware of her girlfriend’s fate - she had a closure. If they didn’t find Daryl, one way or the other, Rick would keep on searching for the rest of his days. Always wondering, always hoping, never able to move on and put that part of his life behind him. For all times he would ask himself, if he could have found Daryl, if he had headed out only a day earlier. If anything he had done or hadn’t done, had made the difference. And his fantasies would run wild and play out all sorts of horrible scenarios of what may have happened to the archer, of what may still be happening to him now, while Rick dared to just breathe, live, even smile. He would never be able to smile again, without feeling guilty about it the very same moment. 

As soon as they reached the kitchen, Rick made a bee-line for the coffee machine, more than grateful that they’d been lucky to find more coffee on a run just recently. He dreaded to imagine life in a world like this without even caffeine. 

         “Rosita is reliable”, he commented, while pouring the dark brew into a mug. “She’s got the coffee ready before the chickens are up.” 

He took a swig, despite the fact that the liquid was still hot, and pulled a face instantly. 

         “Eugene made it”, Tara warned him too late, stifling a laugh, when she watched Rick’s features derail further. He was clearly in between the urge to spit the gruesome brew out and the need for caffeine.

In the end he swallowed bravely, coughing the same moment.

         “Damn, we could run the generators on that stuff. How does he make crude oil from coffee beans?”

         “He’s the scientist – ask him. I’m waiting for him to turn water into wine, but no luck so far.” She giggled. “One thing’s for sure – that stuff wakes people up. Rosita hasn’t slept in two nights.”

         “Yeah, Eugene may have had something to do with that, but I’m not so sure his crude oil here was involved.”

The innuendo had Tara laugh and nudge Rick’s shoulder playfully. 

         “What did I tell you about shoving?” he said in fake annoyance.

         “My mistake, chief. How can I make it up to you?” she played along.

         “Get me a load of sugar to make this stuff drinkable without giving me a heartattack. And milk. Do we have …?” 

He broke off and the smile, that had been on his lips before, vanished. 

Milk. Of course, they had milk. Ever since Daryl demanded _one of them cows_ from the Hilltop, they had fresh milk every single day. 

Tara didn’t know about the incident, but it was more than obviously, that something just triggered another memory. Apparently a simple thing like milk was able to set off another avalanche of sadness, and this happened a dozen times every single day. He just had too many memories and too little answers. 

She was right. As long as he didn’t _know_ , Daryl would haunt him forever. 

The young woman took the mug gently out of Rick’s hand and placed it on the counter.

         “Forget about that stuff. Let’s go to the Hilltop. Now. I bet, they got better coffee there.”

Rick cast her a questioning look, wondering what had her think that, although she’d never been there. With a shrug she added: “It can’t possibly be _worse._ ” 

The remark brought a smile back to his face and he gave her a thankful nod. He was well aware of the fact, that she was trying to lift his spirit, although she had all the reasons to give in to despair herself. A fact, that shamed him. He had let himself go long enough and it was time to get a grip and be the leader again these people needed. Daryl wouldn’t want it any other way. 

         “You’re right. The coffee in the Hilltop can’t be worse than Eugene’s swamp mud here. And if all else fails, there’s always Rose’s delicious elderberry tea.”

Tara pulled a face.

         “Elderberry tea? Sounds disgusting.”

         “You gotta try it. You’ll be surprised”, he said, suppressing an evil grin, while he headed to the front door. 

A second later he was held back by Tara’s hand on his shoulder.

         “Er, Rick …” she started cautiously. “Why don’t I go ahead and call in the council, while you …”

She trailed off and gave him a meaningful look from head to toe, rolling her eyes when she saw him cock his head with a questioning look.

         “Man, you look like the Swamp Thing. Get a shower and change those clothes, for God’s sake.” 

He pulled a face.

         “How come, nobody ever gave … _gives_ ”, he corrected himself stubbornly, “Daryl a hard time about being dirty?”

Tara shrugged nonchalantly.

         “Because it’s Daryl. That’s different. Being dirty’s his trademark. Just imagine the Peanuts’ Pig Pen to wash up – people wouldn’t even recognize him anymore.” 

She couldn’t help giggling and with a smirk tugging at the corner’s of his mouth, Rick came to realize that Rose Mitchell, the friendly, elderly nurse in the Hilltop, had been right – humor did help. Always. Even in dire situations it helped distracting people and lift their spirit somewhat. 

Right now, all he could do was give in and head for the shower. What more was there to say? Tara was right after all. 

An hour later a new man entered the living room of what used to be Deanna’s house. The council had decided a while ago, that they needed some kind of town hall, an official building where they could hold their conferences and take care of _town business._ Whatever that meant. Deanna’s house seemed suitable, especially since Spencer had chosen to move out of the otherwise empty house and share another one with a couple of bachelors down the street. 

Abraham had commented dryly back then, that they best assigned someone at the new _town hall_ instantly to keep track of who was currently living where, since people seemed to move in and out of places all the time. 

Tara looked up, when Rick entered the room and cast him an approving smile. He looked his old self again – he had showered, trimmed his beard, changed into a clean set of clothes and displayed a hunch of his former confidence and determination. It may have been an act, and then maybe he truly felt confident and determined once more. If only for a while. She knew about those mood swings. How one could actually feel _alright_ the one moment, only to have some incident or a single unwisely chosen word punch them in the guts and floor them again. 

But for now they seemed to have their leader back and hopefully, this condition was going to last till the war was won. 

Eight pairs of eyes looked back at Rick, while he walked to the head of the table. He had made it a rule, that the council needed to consist of nine members permanently, of which at least three had to remain in Alexandria at all times; as triarchy, so to speak. Back then, when they had run into Negan’s trap, he had realized too late that after Michonne, Daryl and Glenn had left on their own accord, he had taken the entire rest of the council with him on their trip to the Hilltop. There had been no one left in Alexandria to make decisions, to take the helm, to hold things together in case of an attack. 

Replacing people they had lost, was the hardest part. It had taken Rick a while to assign someone new for Michonne and Carol, but in the end Aaron and Tobin had taken their places, while Rosita and Spencer had stepped in as interim replacements for Glenn and Maggie until they returned from the Hilltop. 

The young man swallowed hard against a lump in his throat, when he stopped in front of his chair now and looked from one person to the next. He didn’t sit down. Didn’t just get back to business as usual. There was something he had to do first, and they knew it. 

Before he even said a word, Tara gave him a reassuring nod and then meant to quietly head for the door. She had no right to be here. She wasn’t a member of the council. But his voice stopped her a moment later.

         “Tara stay, please.”

She looked at him in surprise, while he cleared his throat and continued.

         “Before we start, there’s something I gotta do. The council is missing another member …” He stopped, his voice choked up with emotions, before he lifted his head stubbornly and picked up again. “You all know, that Daryl isn’t around at the moment, so we need to assign another interim member for the time being.”

He totally ignored any frowns or surprised looks. This _was_ an interim assignment. No discussions. Daryl would be back. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next month. Maybe ten years from now. It didn’t matter. He was still out there and he _would_ be back. And until then, someone else was going to replace him. Temporarily. No one was ever going to officially take Daryl’s place. And if that _temporary_ assignment lasted till the end of Rick’s life, so be it. 

“If there are no objections, I’d like to announce Tara as Daryl’s substitute for the time being.” He let his eyes wander over the assembled group, before adding: 

“He would have chosen her, too.”

That comment was actually a smart move, he secretly praised himself. 

Even _if_ there had been any objections, _now_ nobody would dare speak against his choice without deliberately treading on thin ice. Whatever Daryl would think or do seemed to be Rick’s Bible these days, and it came close to sacrilege to speak against it in Rick’s presence. 

A moment later the leader saw seven heads nod in agreement to the new assignment and cast Tara a look. 

         “Do you accept?”

She looked at the other council members and saw them give her encouraging nods and smiles, so in the end she just shrugged.

         “Sure.”

A shadow appeared on Rick’s face for a moment, when he pointed to an empty chair to his right and silently offered her to sit there. She noticed the look in the other ones’ eyes and understood in an instant that this was Daryl’s seat. She was certain, that out of respect it had been kept vacant till this very moment.

Determinedly she picked up a chair that was sitting in a corner of the room, and carried it over to the table.

         “Move”, she gently said to Rosita, before squeezing the chair in next to the empty one. 

It was a symbolic act, that had one or the other swallow thickly. First of all Rick, who was overwhelmed by emotions once again. He breathed in deep several times to compose himself, before mouthing a silent “Thank you” to Tara and taking a seat himself.

         “Alright. Let’s get down to business right away. Before we talk about the Savior problem, I got a new job to assign. I’m kinda tired of having to search for people all over town, just because everybody keeps moving. So I need someone to do a head count and make a list of who is living where and let them know they are to report, if they move into another house. Any volunteers?”

He cast a look in Abrahams direction and saw the red-haired man narrow his eyes in a _Don’t you dare_ kind of manner. Rick was barely able to refrain from grinning. 

He was well aware of the fact, that Abe had only been joking the other day, when he dropped that comment. But it was in fact a problem, that personal circumstances kept changing constantly, and thus finding a certain person became a hassle way too often. Losing time searching for someone, could be fatal in a tight situation. 

         “I’ll do it”, he heard a voice to his left the next moment.

Tobin. Just as he had expected. Any job that entailed the least danger and just some minor paperwork to be done, Tobin would always volunteered for. Which was precisely, why Rick had insisted on bringing him into the council. They needed someone, who was well known and appreciated throughout town; someone who’d been a part of Alexandria long before _the group_ arrived here. Someone they could assign the henchman jobs to, jobs none of them really wanted to do, and who would do them happily and with pride. 

Rick gave the man a curt nod.

         “Good. Get started as soon as this meeting is over and make sure to have two copies of that list at all times – one is gonna stay here for everyone to look into and I want the other one.” 

         _“Gosh, he’s back”,_ Tara couldn’t help thinking for a second, when Rick added a softer “Please”, ending her train of thought instantly. 

She smiled to herself. That spark of the former determined Rick Grimes she’d been wishing for, had just peeked through, but his feet were back on the ground.

         “Now”, Rick continued, after taking another deep breath, “the Saviors …”. 

He looked from one to the other and saw anger, defiance as well as fear in their faces. They hadn’t lost anyone else due to their latest enemy, but they kept calling, took their food and other goods and the threat was always there, that they would do more than pay a _friendly visit,_ if Negan wasn’t satisfied with what he got. The problem had to be taken care of. It had to end. 

         “I guess, we are ready. We’ve been training everybody in town in close combat as well as shooting and I saw some pretty impressive results there lately.” He looked at Abraham again. “Good thought, by the way, to take small groups out of town to empty warehouses and train them there. The Saviors are probably watching us and they must not see what we are doing.” He paused shortly. “It’s time. I’m gonna leave for the Hilltop today to talk to Gregory.”

         “What about the Kingdom?” Aaron cut in.

         “They are next. We need to get Gregory and Ezekiel at the table and make a plan. Training our troops separately was step one. Now it’s time for step two – uniting the forces.”

Abraham slammed his palms onto the tabletop eagerly, having Spencer and Tobin jump. He couldn’t help grinning on noticing that. 

         “’All right, I’ll get our gear packed, so we can leave ASAP.”

         “No”, Rick said sternly. “I’m going on my own.” 

         “What?!” 

It was impossible to tell, who the various voices belonged to that yelled that one word simultaneously, but it was Morgan, who got up the next moment and drowed them out.

         “Quiet!” One could have heard a pin drop the next moment. “Rick”, the deep voice of the black man filled the room, “I know, we don’t always agree ...”

         _“Barely ever”,_ Rick thought, while he pressed his lips together in order to not say it out loud.

         “ … but I’m sure, you’ve got a good explanation for your decision. So, let’s hear it.”

Rick arched an eyebrow. He would have expected protest, the attempt to dismiss his decision instantly, so this came as a surprise.

         “Easy. After we challenged Negan more than once, he most certainly has Alexandria watched – maybe he even expects some kind of resistance sooner or later. And me heading to the Hilltop along with several people of the group they already know, will raise suspicion.” 

         “And you heading there all by yourself, does not?” Sasha cut in. “They know you. They know, you’re the leader. So what reason could you possible have to head to one of the other communities, if not some kind of political background?” 

Rick cocked his head.

         “We got some of our people still over in the Hilltop. I’m gonna pay them a visit, that’s all. See how they are.” 

         “Seriously?” Abraham commented dryly. “You really think, they gonna buy that?”

         “Got a better idea?” Rick shot back with a scowl. 

         “I do”, Tara cut in. She got up, took the cushion off her chair and stuffed it under her sweater. “There. You’re taking your pregnant wife to the GYN for a check-up.” 

Eight pairs of eyes stared at her as though she had just grown a second head. 

         “What?” she insisted. “They know Rick, but they don’t know exactly who’s with whom. What’s less suspicious than a man taking his pregnant wife to the doctor’s? Especially since doc Carson is the _only_ doctor in the area. Come on, people, that’s why you took Maggie there, isn’t it?” 

For a moment it remained quiet, then Rosita said: “She’s right. Makes sense.”

Various nods and murmors of agreement followed, while Rick just looked at the young woman silently. His hands had balled to fists under the table, unseen by the others, but the moment Tara had mentioned Maggie and how they had taken her to the Hilltop back then, it had all come back to him. The entire trip, how they had run into one trap after the other, the noose tightening around their necks mercilessly, climaxing in Michonne dying and Daryl as well as Maggie being in such critical condition when they finally reached the Hilltop, that they had almost lost them as well. 

         “Rick?” Tara’s voice gently pulled him back into the here and now. “Hey, come on, _hubby_ , are you gonna take _us_ to the doctor’s now or what?” 

Morgan leaned over to him. 

         “This actually sounds like a plan that could work, Rick. She’s right – it’s the least suspicious reason.”

Relenting, Rick nodded his agreement. 

         “If there’s nothing else, Tara and I leave within the hour”, he closed. 

Only marginally he observed how everybody got up, wished them good luck or gave a parting nod and then one by one left the room, until he was alone with Tara. He got up, too.

         “You really wanna do that?” he asked cautiously.

         “Why not? It _is_ a good idea.”

         “I know. But last time I tried to take a pregnant woman to the Hilltop, things didn’t work out too well.”

         “Yeah, and last time you had some coffee, you almost got a seizure. Does that mean, you never gonna risk having another one?” 

The comment had him smile. 

         “Been thinking about it.”

She rolled her eyes.

         “Good Lord, it’s definitely me wearing the pants in this marriage.” 

His smile remained.

         “And this is why I wanted you on the council. You said, you were gonna tell me _what the heck to do till my man came back._ ” His hand ran almost tenderly over the backrest of Daryl’s chair. “Maybe this is exactly what I need right now.”

She looked at him calmly.

         “Maybe this is exactly what I need right now, too. Having something to _do_ at all.”

Her hand joined his on the backrest of Daryl’s chair, without touching him though. They stood quietly and unmoving for a short moment, then she gave the piece of furniture a gentle pat, like a reassurance, a silent message to the archer wherever he may be, that she would be at Rick’s side till … well, however long he needed her there. 

         “Go say good-bye to your kids”, Tara said softly into the stillness of the room. “I’ll get our gear and then we’ll go to the Hilltop.”  


	3. Chapter 3

They’d been driving for a while in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The colorful woods flew by, but they didn’t pay attention to them. And not to the occassional walker that stumbled alongside the road or in between the trees, either. It was shocking, that seeing dead people everywhere and on a daily base had become so normal, that no one even still paid attention to them.

        “Back then, before the outbreak”, Tara started suddenly, “did you use to have that feeling, too, when going on a vacation, that you forgot something very important? Something you should have packed or maybe turning off the coffee machine or whatever?”

He cast her a frown. Where was that headed now?

        “Yes”, he admitted after a moment. “Each time. Lori used to laugh about that. She was the most organized person I’ve ever met. Had a pack list ready weeks before a vacation and ran through the entire house at least three times before we left, to make sure every window was closed and every electrical device turned off. It was impossible for us to forget _anything_ , and still I always had the feeling we did. Why are you asking?”

For a moment she just looked out onto the road ahead, not answering. Then she picked up again:

        “All the time I was out there with Heath, I had that feeling. That there was something left undone, something that was important.”    
She broke off and fell quiet once more, while Rick cast her a side glance, wondering, if she expected him so say anything now. Before he even had a chance to, she continued:   
        “I figured it out, I think. There was something left undone, but it wasn’t me … “ She sighed. “I told Denise, that I loved her before I left. I thought, it was important to say the words. So she would know, in case … She didn’t say them back. Said she was gonna tell me, when I came home.”    
Her voice was thick with emotions now.   
“She should have told me how she felt, right there and then, either way. I will never know for sure. Did she not say it, because she was afraid or because she had second thoughts?”

        “Tara, stop it.” Rick stopped the car abruptly and then turned to the young woman with a stern look on his face. “You got no reason to doubt her feelings for you. None.”

        “But …”

        “Did Daryl give you that soda?”

Tara furrowed her brow, before nodding hesitatingly. 

        “Yes”, she replied. “He said, it was a present from Denise and that she wanted me to have it.”

Rick sighed. Daryl and his eloquence. 

        “But I guess, he didn’t tell you the whole story. On how she put that _pop_ on a supply list for us to get during a run. The mere fact that she held a speech about how _not_ important it was, practically made it a priority. At least for Daryl. He moved Heaven and Hell and chased an entire vending machine through half the state of Virginia to get Denise the requested soda. And when that attempt failed, she risked her life for it, while she was out there with him and Rosita. The day she …” He broke off and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “What I’m trying to tell you is, that _words_ are not important.”    
_ “Daryl would agree on that”,  _ he couldn’t help thinking.   
“Some people say ‘I love you’ all the time and it means nothing. But if someone risks their life to get you a simple thing like a can of soda, because they wanna make you happy – doesn’t that mean far more than any shallow phrase?”    
He looked at her calmly.   
“Denise wasn’t just out there for those meds or to prove something, she was out there, because she wanted to get you that very special present. Because she loved you.” 

A tear ran down Tara’s cheek.

        “Did you ever tell Daryl that you loved him?”

Rick clenched his teeth for a moment and looked away, fighting the stinging sensation in his eyes, before quickly composing himself again.

        “Yes. Once. In the Hilltop, when I thought, I was gonna lose him and had to let him know how I felt for him. After that, it wasn’t necessary to repeat it. He knew.”

She gave an understanding nod.

        “I take it, he never told you then?” 

A sad smile appeared on the man’s face, while he turned back to Tara.

        “He didn’t have to. I got countless _soda pops_ from him over the years.” 

This brought a smile to her face again and when the previous sadness made room for a happy and relieved spakle in her eyes, he gently accelerated the car again.    
Again silence embraced them as they continued their ride to the Hilltop.

While Tara looked out into the woods, Rick kept his eyes focussed firmly on the road, as though there was an immense traffic out there. Naturally they were the only car in the area, but he avoided to look to the roadside or into the woods. He wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself, but he dreaded to look at the walkers that crossed their path.    
He was well aware of the fact, that after a few weeks of sending search parties out to look for Daryl, the majority hadn’t been looking for a living person anymore – they took a closer look at every walker that crossed their path and they still did. Most of them, if not all, didn’t believe any longer, that Daryl was still alive. But if he was out there, as one of _them,_ they wanted to know, so Rick would finally have a closure.

Rick pulled in another deep breath. Maybe he didn’t want a closure. Maybe he just wanted to hold on to his hopes and the fantasies of Daryl standing in front of him one of these days, alive. If he was one of _them_ , Rick didn’t want to know, because that would mean losing the last bit he still had of the archer – his dreams of him and the memories of how he was.

They passed a street sign that read ‘Sterling’ or something similar. Rick read it, but it didn’t really register – they had to go straight for a long time, so why pay attention to anything to the left and right?   
If this was a run, Daryl would have his feet up on the dashboard by now and would be munching chocolate or any other kind of candy. It had become a ritual and the archer had a sweet tooth. Going on a run with Rick, hadn’t been _business_ to Daryl for a long time. It wasn’t just a necessity to get urgently needed supplies – it was an adventure, a day off, time to themselves out there, without the crowd around them that annoyed the hell out of Daryl for the most part. Just him and Rick out in the woods, that’s when the archer could breathe freely again, had felt more alive than any other time. He had always graciously shared his candy with Rick, knowing that kissing his boyfriend would be even sweeter than it usually was after.   
They had never gone far, before Daryl had demanded to taste, if his precious candy had been well invested. Every run in the few weeks they had had together as a couple, had started with them parking by the road side, sharing more than just candy.   
The memory had Rick’s pulse rate pick up considerably, while he felt an awkward reaction in his pants.   
Out of the corners of his eyes he cast a glance in Tara’s direction to see, if she noticed, but the young woman was still looking out of the passenger side window. Rick breathed in deep.   
God, he missed Daryl so achingly. His kiss, his touch, the strong, muscular body pressed against Rick’s slimmer one, his eyes, his voice, that special smile Daryl had reserved for Rick alone, his arms around him, his warmth at night – just _Daryl._  
The next second he flinched violently, when Tara suddenly turned in her seat and pushed the button of the CD player, music filling the small room instantly.

        _“No, don’t. Please, don’t.”_

Rick heard Daryl’s voice clearly in the back of his mind and his heart constricted painfully. No. Not _that_ CD. Not that song. Not any of this.    
He slammed his hand against the eject button, almost tore the CD out of the player as soon as it was visible and tossed it out of the window the next second. 

        “The hell …?” Tara started, but fell quiet instantly, when she noticed the look on his face. 

Oh, gosh, no. Another memory. Another wound she had just twisted the knife in. Apparently there was no place to go, nothing to do, not a word to say, that wouldn’t evoke painful memories. How could anybody even live like that?

        “Sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

        “I know.”  

 

Not another word was spoken the rest of the ride. Once again they were both lost in their thoughts and it started to grow dark by the time the Hilltop came into sight.    
When the gate closed behind them and they got out of the car, they both sighed simultaneously, for different reasons though. Tara was just glad, that the ride was over and they had reached their destination unbothered. Rick felt like screaming.    
His eyes had instantly darted over to the Barrington House, to the balcony and a window to the left – the room, where he and Daryl had made the transition from friends to lovers, where their story as a couple had started. It should have been a novel the size of Tolstoy’s _War and Peace_ , but in fact it had turned out to be a short story with an open end. He wanted a sequel so badly, another chapter, lots of them. It just couldn’t end that way.   

They had just closed the car doors and taken a breather, when the inhabitants of the town noticed their arrival and were gathering around them. 

        “Rick’s back.”

The word spread like wildfire and more and more people appeared at the square. Everybody knew, who Rick was. How could they possibly forget his name – or the way he had introduced himself to this town not too long ago? In fact, they hadn’t even known who the heck he was, when he had already killed one of their own back then.  Ethan. There weren’t hard feelings about that any longer, but the suspicion remained. They knew, he was the leader of a group, that attacked a Savior outpost single-handedly. He was the head of Alexandria’s council. He would be one of those to lead them into battle against the Saviors. But he was considered unstable and unpredictable by many of the Hilltop inhabitants, which wasn’t a good base to unite the forces.  
When they drew closer and got a better look of Rick, one or the other gasp was clearly audible and plain shock was visible on some faces.  
What had happened to the man? They all still remembered how he had stood in the middle of their town, arrogant and self-confident and not in the least ashamed about having killed one of the people living there before he’d even said hello. This man right there now, was just a shadow of the Rick Grimes they all remembered.  
He was pale and thin, with dark rings underneath his eyes and an empty and lost look in them. He didn’t stand as erect and confident as he used to, his shoulders slumped as though he had lost all of his strength. _This_ was the man Gregory and Ezekiel meant to plan a war with?    

        “Will you get out of my way?” a resolut female voice was heard in the background suddenly and the crowd parted like the Red Sea to Moses’ command. 

The next moment Rose, the chubby, elderly nurse came to stand in front of Rick, compassion darkening her eyes instantly. She knew. They all did. 

 

A month after Daryl went missing, Rick had paid the Hilltop a visit to ask for their assistance in searching for the archer. He still remembered how Rose had stood there with plain shock on her face at first, before she has chided:

        “Didn’t I tell you boys to take care of yourselves? And of each other? You didn’t hear a word of what I said, did you?”   
And then she had pulled Rick into a tight embrace.   
        “I’ll make sure they go looking for him. Trust me. I’m personally gonna administer an enema to everybody, who doesn’t do whatever they can to find him.”

This had actually made Rick laugh back then. Probably because he knew, that she _would_ , if anybody dared screw with her. He loved that woman. Many of the people around here probably did not by now. 

Rick knew, what he’d been asking. Daryl was a stranger to these people. Most of them had only seen him shortly and would probably not even recognize him, if they met him, so it was a kind of futile request. They didn’t know what they were looking for out there and they didn’t know _why._ Why should they risk their life for someone, they had only met once or not at all? _‘The dude, who broke Andy’s arm’_ or ‘ _The shaggy looking guy with the bike’_. That’s pretty much how Daryl was widely referred to throughout the Hilltop.   
Gregory had downright refused back then to send his own people out and risk their lives for one of the Alexandrians, but Jesus’ friendly reminder, that Rick and his group had assaulted a Savior compound for the sake of all of them the other day, had the  grumpy old man give in.

        “I’ll send out everybody, who can identify Daryl”, Jesus had promised Rick, realizing too late how that had sounded. As though they were looking for a corpse or a walker, but not a living person.    
        “I’m sorry. That came out wrong”, he had tried to apologize and explain himself, but Rick had waved it off. 

        “I appreciate whatever you do”, he had replied tiredly. He hadn’t had the strength to take each word with a pinch of salt.  

Glenn had been the first to volunteer for the search, along with Kal and Eduardo, who had seen the archer several times and were able to recognize him. To Harlan’s utmost displeasure, his request to join them had been turned down instantly – they couldn’t risk losing the only doctor in the entire area. It had been a small group, that Jesus had personally lead out onto the first search the very same day, and on several more even after Rick had returned to Alexandria. But they had found nothing.

 

Rick didn’t even have to ask now. If there had been but the slightest trace, they would have let him know, but there had been no message. Nothing. The Hilltop’s search had been unlucky as well. 

        “Hello, dear”, Rose Mitchell said in that moment and pulled Rick into a tight embrace. 

When she let go again, he had to ask the obvious nevertheless.

        “Nothing?”  
         
She shook her head with a regretful air, before giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

        “But you know what they say – no news, is good news. As long as there is no confirmation of his death, he _is_ alive. Period.”

Rick nodded reluctantly.

        “Is Jesus still sending people out?”

        “Yes. Effort is not the problem.” Her features darkened and she drew closer conspiratorially. “We just have way too many surviving donors of brain transplants here.”   
She rolled her eyes, while he couldn’t help grinning at that.   
        “We did have one or the other report, that people spotted a walker looking like Daryl …”

        “But”, a well-known voice cut in quickly behind Rick as Jesus walked up to them, “Rose personally made sure to verify those reports.”    
He sighed.    
“And I’m not kidding here. That crazy woman was out there each time, taking a look at the alleged Daryl …”    
He trailed off and cast Rose a sideglance.   
“Let’s just say, we had a lot of enemas administered here lately.”

The next moment Rose’s voice sounded across the square.

        “And there will be even more, if you people don’t stop staring right now. You’re not at the zoo, for crying out loud. What’s next? Tossing peanuts? Shoo. Get!” 

Almost instantly the crowd cleared and people headed quickly into all directions as though their pants were on fire. 

Rick laughed softly.

        “I see, you’re still running this town, Rose.”

She shrugged.

        “Someone’s gotta do it.” 

A movement to her side got her attention and the next moment her eyes grew large, when they came to rest on Tara and her false baby bump.

        “Oh my!” The elderly nurse hurried towards the young woman instantly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t see you there. –  Paul Rovia, whatta you got those baby blues for? Gimme a hand here right now.” 

        “Yes, ma’am!” Jesus replied with a smirk and hurried to Tara’s other side.

        “No, you don’t have to …” Tara tried to protest, but Rose was quicker. 

        “Fiddlesticks. You’re gonna go see the gyn right now, hon.”

        “But I’m not …”

        “Tara”, Rick cut in with a smile. “Save it. Arguing with Rose is futile.”

        “Words of wisdom”, Jesus muttered with a sigh, while a smile spread over Tara’s face. 

        “This sure is gonna be interesting”, she remarked. 

A moment later they entered the doctor’s trailer and Harlan instantly focussed his entire attention on his new patient the second he saw her. These days, more than ever before, babies were a blessing, if the human race was to survive. 

        “Here”, he gestured to the exam table, “lie down.”

        “No. Look, you don’t understand”, Tara tried to protest again. “I …”

        “No need to worry, dear”, Rose assured her. “You are in good hands.”

        “Thank you”, Harlan beamed, before he saw the sturdy nurse pull a face.

        “Wasn’t talking about you”, she teased. 

Rick shook his head to himself and had to suppress a grin. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He exchanged a look with the young mother. 

        “You know”, he addressed Tara with an amused sparkle in his eyes, “I think, it’s time you had the baby, _darling_.” 

Ignoring the stunned expressions of Rose, Harlan and Jesus, Tara replied:

        “I think, you’re right, _honey_.”

And with one rough jerk, she pulled the cushion out from under her sweater, where she had securely fastened it with a belt before leaving Alexandria.    
With a smile Rick walked up to her and, standing right behind her, placed his hands gently onto her shoulders.

        “May I introduce – this is Tara. And Tara’s cushion.” He couldn’t help grinning. “We thought, this was the least suspicious and safest way for me to come to the Hilltop, in case we are being watched by the Saviors. Tara, those are Rose, Jesus and Harlan … Doctor Carson.”

        “Harlan’s fine”, the doctor replied friendly and extended his hand to the young woman. “This sure was the quickest delivery I ever had”, he joked. 

        “And the one, that entailed the least cleaning up after”, Rose added with a smile. 

        “I assume, you came to talk to Gregory”, Jesus ended the jokes. “Gotta tell you, he was kinda pissed off the other day, that you were here for several days and didn’t go see him at all in that time. He wants me to remind you, that it’s still him running this town – not me or anybody else.”

        “Pff”, Rose snorted annoyed, “I guess, everybody’s entitled to their delusions.” 

        “Still”, Jesus sighed, “make sure to see him right away, or _negociations_ won’t be too futile.”

Rick’s features darkened instantly and a piercing look came to his azure blue eyes.

        “I’m not here to _negotiate._ There’s nothing we want. This is about working together for a common goal, which is defeating the Saviors and liberation of our communities. I’m not here to pamper the ego of that conceited …”

Jesus made the ‘time out’ gesture and had Rick fall quiet in mid-sentence. 

        “You are preaching to the choir, Rick. All of us here totally agree with you and, truth to be told, very few people in the Hilltop are still happy with Gregory being at the helm, but he still is. Changes don’t happen over night.”

        “Some do”, Tara tossed in gravely.

        “All I’m saying is”, Jesus continued cautiously, “that you best _pamper his ego_ to some extent and don’t make things any harder than they already are. Maggie can handle him and his moods quite well and she’ll be there, if you want her to.”

        “By all means.” Rick’s face lit up. “How’s she doing? And the baby? And Glenn?” 

        “They are just fine”, Harlan assured him with a smile. “All three of them.”  

        “They’re probably over in the house, if you wanna say hello”, Jesus added. “And best let Gregory know, you are here.” He sighed again. “In the meantime, I’ll see to finding you two rooms for tonight and some dinner.”

        “Thanks”, Rick nodded gratefully.

        “I have to see to a patient now”, Rose was heard a moment later. “The old lady isn’t doing too well, so I need to check on her.”

Jesus as well as the elderly nurse headed out the doctor’s trailer and both cast a glance over their shoulder in a silent prompt to Tara and Rick to accompany them over to the Barrington House.    
The closer they came, the heavier Rick’s feet appeared to grow – as well as his heart. Too many memories. Way too many memories. Some of them bad, but most of them entirely wonderful.    
When they reached the top of the stairs to the front porch, Rick turned around and looked into the darkening sky for a moment.

        _“We should have run away, Daryl”,_ he couldn’t help thinking. _“It was just a silly idea back then, but if we had, maybe you’d still be with me.”_

          “Rick?”

Tara’s voice pulled him back to the here and now and breathing in deep, he turned around and followed her, Rose and Jesus into the Barrington House. 

The  moment they entered the hall, Rose headed to the stairs to see to her patient, while Jesus led Rick and Tara over to a room on the left. Gregory’s study. They hadn’t even reached the door, when it was pulled open and the grumpy, elderly man appeared in the doorway. 

        “Now, look who’s here”, he said, his inflection lacking any kind of friendliness. “So glad you came to see me this time”, he added, each word nothing but pungent sarcasm. 

        “Gregory”, Rick just said in greeting, his eyes cold as glacier ice. Totally ignoring the previous remarks, he added: “We need to talk. About the Saviors.” 

        “I guess, we do”, Gregory replied smugly. “Tomorrow would be convinient.”

Jesus could almost _see_ Rick’s bloodpressure rise, and placed a hand on his shoulder in a calming gesture.

        “I’ll show Rick and his company their rooms, if that is alright with you”, he addressed Gregory, his own inflection not bare of sarcasm as well. But he hid it way better than the older man. 

        “You do that”, Gregory answered, averting his eyes to take a look at Rick’s _company._

When they came to rest on Tara’s pretty face, his eyes visibly lit up.

        “Well, hello”, he said, walking up to the young woman and reaching for her hand. “I don’t think, we’ve met yet. I’m the head of this town – my name is Gregory.”

When he got hold of her hand and even bent to place a featherly kiss on its back, Tara felt like pulling it back and slapping his face with it instead. The thought   
_ “Nope, you are the  _ ass _of this town”,_ unexpectedly flashed through her mind.

        “I’m delighted”, Gregory topped things off the next moment, “that Rick brought such pleasant company along this time. After the previous one left, we had to disinfect the entire house.” 

The next second a violent grip got hold of his collar and he was pushed away from Tara, as Rick stood before the older man with blazing eyes.

        “Now you listen to me. You’re bad-mouthing _my_ man here. He’s my partner and one of those, who risked their life to defend your sorry ass. You best keep in mind, that _I_ don’t need _you_ – you need me and my people. I can walk out that door right now and you can take care of the Saviors by yourself, for all I care. I don’t even have to talk to you. Reason I do it anyway, is because Jesus asked me politely and my mother taught me some manners. But if I ever hear you talk about Daryl in that way again, I’m gonna rip that malicious tongue out and feed it to you. Understood?”

Without even waiting for a reply, he released Gregory and gave him a last rough shove, before he turned on his heels and stomped off towards the stairs. He didn’t even check, if anyone was following him. He just wanted to get away from that _person_ , before he shot him right there and then. 

        “Well, I guess, that concludes cordialities”, Jesus commented dryly. 

        “You put that maniac on a leash!” Gregory grumbled, before he almost ran back into his study and slammed the door shut behind him. 

        “It was nice meeting you”, Tara called after him with an evil grin, which earned her a chiding smirk from Jesus. 

        “Sure is always exciting to have you Alexandrians over”, he said, while shaking his head to himself. “Come on, let’s see what Rick’s up to.” 

 

When Rose came out of her patient’s room, she found Rick standing right in front of her. Or rather, in front of the room on the other side of the corridor. _The_ room. _Their_ room. He didn’t react to the sound or movement behind his back, didn’t hear or see anything at all around him. He just stared at the closed door, one hand resting on the door knot hesitantingly. 

        “Don’t”, Rose said gently, while she walked up to him and placed her hand on top of his. “It’s just an empty room. Whatever you are looking for … it’s not in there.” 

        “I know”, he choked out. 

        “I understand, what you’re trying to do, but it doesn’t work that way”, she picked up cautiously. “You can’t turn back time and being in there, won’t make you feel any closer to him, either. It won’t bring back the past. The room is just gonna be twice as empty. It’d be only painful, so leave it. Please.” 

For a moment longer he remained unmoving, then he pulled back his hand and nodded.

        “There you are”, Jesus voice sounded through the corridor as he and Tara approached them. 

He noticed the room Rick was standing in front of and saw the look in both his and Rose’s eyes, and understood.

        “Come on”, he said softly, while he gave Rick’s upper arm a gentle slap. “I’ll show you to your rooms now.”    


	4. Chapter 4

Half an hour later, Rick and Tara sat at a large table to one side of the even larger kitchen and had two steaming bowls of soup sitting right in front of them.    
        Jesus had led them to two tastefully furnished rooms on the third floor and had told them to head down to the kitchen to get some dinner, as soon as they felt like it. Which had been almost immediately.    
There were no suitcases to unpack – they both only had a small backpack with them – and not much to do in these rooms. Rick had noticed instantly, that his was right on top of _the_ room and he had sat on the floor indian style for a good five minutes, as though that would help any. It did not. Rose was right. Nothing would turn back time and make him feel closer to Daryl, no matter what he did or where he was. So he had headed down to the kitchen with Tara after tossing a handful of water in his face and washing his hands. And he sure as hell didn’t do that to please Gregory, but in concideration of everybody else.    
The soup was delicious. A pumpkin and potato soup along with freshly baked bread, which was a perfect autumn dish. In another world, in another time, kids would have gone trick-or-treating on Halloween a few weeks earlier and it would be Thanksgiving soon. These days it was Halloween the whole year round and what was even left worth giving thanks for?   
Sometimes he wondered where he’d be, if the apocalypse hadn’t happened. Would Lori and he still be together, despite their marital problems? Maybe. Would he still be friends and working with Shane? Probably. Lori and Shane … They would still be alive. Many people would still be alive. Countless. But Judith would never have been born. People, that were friends and family these days, wouldn’t even have talked to each other in the old world. Daryl … He probably would never have met Daryl, and if he had, they wouldn’t have been friends, let alone fall in love. Old narrow-minded conventions and their entirely different backgrounds would have had him miss out on the love of his life. Apparently there _were_ still things worth giving thanks for. Yes, sometimes Rick was grateful for the apocalypse.

Just when he put the third spoonful of the delicious soup in his mouth, the sound of quickly approaching feet out in the corridor caught his and Tara’s attention. The next moment the door was pushed open and a young, clearly pregnant woman appeared in the doorway. 

        “Maggie!” 

Rick got up immediately and met her halfway, arms widely spread before they closed around her, as they gave each other a hearty hug. It didn’t work as well as it used to, because her swollen belly was definitely in the way now. 

        “It’s good to see you, Rick”, she said with a smile, after they had parted. 

Then she turned to Tara and embraced her, too. The smile remained, but it never quite reached her eyes as she looked from one to the other now.

        “I’m not gonna say it and I’m not gonna ask”, she said simply. “I know, there’s nothing anybody can do or say, that makes it better, so I’ll spare you any hackneyed  phrases.”

        “Thanks”, Tara said wholeheartedly. 

        “Just want you to know, Rick”, Maggie added, “Jesus is really doing all he can to keep the search for Daryl going. I know, he’s out there personally almost every day. Under various pretenses, so Gregory doesn’t eat him alive.”    
She drew nearer to the man with a conspiratorial air.    
“I think, he’s got a crush on Daryl”, she whispered with a suppressed smirk. 

        “You know why they made the kitchens so huge in these old mansions?” Jesus voice behind her had Maggie jump the next moment.    
“So all the servants had room to eat in there together – and nobody would miss out on the latest gossip.” 

He cast Maggie a chiding glance, which she answered with an amused shrug. Jesus’ ears had an obvious tinge of red, when he turned to Rick.

        “Gregory graciously agreed to a meeting tomorrow morning. And I apologize in his stead for the earlier incident. He was clearly out of line.”

Rick’s expression got hard.

        “You don’t need to apologize _in his stead._ It’s settled. But if he ever says a thing like that again, I’m afraid, I’ll have to shoot him.”

Jesus shrugged.

        “Be my guest. I’m surprised, no one did that yet anyway.” He looked at the bowls of soup on the table and then back to Rick and Tara. “Enjoy your dinner. If there’s anything else you need, I’m down on the square for a while. We’re waiting for a patrol to return.”

        “Glenn’s with them”, Maggie tossed in with a worried air. 

        “I see you tomorrow”, Jesus said, before he raised his hand in farewell and disappeared out into the corridor. 

        “I’m gonna go, too”, the young mommy-to-be said as soon as Jesus was out the door. “My feet are killing me. The extra weight, I guess.” 

With a smile, she ran one hand over her big belly tenderly. 

        “May I?”    
Rick pointed at the baby bump and held his hand out hesitatingly, which had both women look at him in surprise.    
“I never asked Lori, when she was pregnant with Judith. Stupid male ego, I guess. I figured, since it’s not even definitely my baby, I didn’t need to care.”    
He sighed.    
“I was so stupid. From the moment she was born, Daryl loved Li’l Asskicker more than I did, just because he understood way earlier than I did, that things like that don’t matter anymore. She is my daughter, either way. _Our_ daughter. And your baby is part of our family, too.”

With a smile, Maggie took a step closer to him and looked at him invitingly. He gently placed one hand on her belly, then the other one and ran them gently up and down a few times. Suddenly a wide smile spread over his face and he looked into Maggie’s eyes.

        “The little pancake just kicked.” 

Maggie couldn’t help laughing.

        “Oh gosh, don’t tell me – Daryl named this baby Li’l Pancake, didn’t he?” 

Rick joined into her laughter.

        “Yup. Abraham’s comment in the RV the other day sort of inspired him. Sorry.”

        “No, it’s quite an honor. Daryl doesn’t consider just everybody worthy of his special names. One way or the other. – I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

That said, she was out the door as well. Tara and Rick finished their meal in silence, before heading to their rooms, saying their good nights and closing the doors behind them.    
It had been a long and exhausting day, but sleep wouldn’t come to them. As soon as the silence embraced them and there was no distractions and too much time to think, the little wheels started turning mercilessly and wouldn’t let them find any rest. All the ‘what ifs’, the endless spiral of thoughts – was there something they could have done and didn’t? Was there something they did do and shouldn’t have? Was there something they should be doing now, while they were just idly lying in their beds?    
Rick was tossing and turning, unable to lie still, and despite his fatigue he was wide awake. Ever since the outbreak there had always been nights like this. Nights, when he just wouldn’t find the peace of mind to sleep. And if he did after all, nightmares would plague him. There was too much on his mind, and on his conscience – guilt, anxiety, responsibility, regret. Some nights he was able to push all that far back into a dark corner of his soul, but too many nights he was haunted by it.    
        After he and Daryl had made the transition from friends to lovers, Rick had slept peacefully again, undisturbed by nightmares, as though the archer being right next to him at nights was like a shield against all evil, all bad memories, every dark thought.    
Rick would rest his head on the other man’s chest, listening to the steady and soothing heartbeat, while Daryl would run his fingers tenderly through Rick’s curls till the younger man had fallen asleep.    
But Rick’s shield was gone now. He was alone, unprotected and exposed to his demons once again. There would be no sleep tonight.    
Just when he meant to get up and go get some fresh air, he heard the door to his room squeak softly as it opened. 

        “Rick?” Tara’s voice whispered into the stillness. 

        “Huh?” 

The young woman took a step into the room, looking over to the bed, where she could make out the man’s silhouette by the light of the full moon, that shone through the window. 

        “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
         
        “You didn’t. I can’t sleep”, he admitted.

        “Same here. Especially at nights I miss Denise twice as much. Feels as though she’s even more … _gone_ than over the day. – Does that make any sense?”

        “Absolutely.”

        “I kinda had the feeling, you’d understand.” She took a step closer to him. “Would you mind, if … ? Can I …? I mean, could I maybe just stay with you for a while?”

It was totally silent for a moment and she shifted her weight awkwardly.

        “Sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask. I’m gonna go …”

        “No.” Rick propped himself up on one elbow and held up the blanket invitingly. “You can stay, if you want to, but I only have this one blanket.”

She shrugged and crawled under the cover.

        “I doubt my honor is at stake here”, she commented dryly, in the twilight not seeing the _‘what’s that supposed to mean’_ look Rick cast her. 

She stretched her legs with a content sigh and rubbed her cold feet against each other to warm them. She was grateful for the warmth and softness of the bed, but although she and Rick had never been overly close, she was even more grateful for his presence.    
Denise’s loss brought her nearer to Daryl. His loss now apparently caused the same for her and Rick. 

Tara tried to relax and looked up to the high ceiling. A bat flew by the window and cast its shadow into the room, the same moment they heard the cry of an owl in a nearby tree. Other than that, it was entirely peaceful, the soft breathing of the two people in the room the only sound. 

        “Do you dream of Daryl?” Tara asked softly into the stillness.

        “Only when I’m awake”, came the equally soft reply. “Maybe that’s why I don’t sleep.” After a pause he said: “How about you?”

        “No.” She paused for a moment, then she added: “I don’t dream of Daryl.”  

She could feel Rick’s head whip around and chuckled softly. A second later he joined in. 

        “Your sense of humor, or rather the timing of it, is worse than Rose’s”, he chided mildly.

        “She seems to be a wonderful woman. – I like her.”

        “So do I. She saved Daryl’s life. And mine. In more than one respect.” 

They were quiet after that and a few minutes later her even and deep breathing indicated, that Tara had fallen asleep. It was a soothing and peaceful sound and lulled Rick to sleep shortly after.

 

It was a surprisingly deep and undisturbed sleep, and Rick didn’t even wake when the door to his room was pushed open the next morning and Jesus came marching in.    
The next second he stopped dead in his tracks, his big blue eyes widening even further when he looked over to the bed. 

        “I don’t believe this”, he commented to Glenn and Maggie, who had followed on his heels. “He did it again. I swear to God, this is the third time I’m walking in on that guy in the morning and each time he’s in bed with someone else. He’s _gotta_ tell me his secret.”

        “Good magician never reveals his tricks”, Rick’s drowsy voice sounded from the direction of the bed, before he sat up and cast a look at the assembly before him.   
         
A smile spread over his pale and unshaved face, when his eyes came to rest on Glenn. The next moment the young Asian had walked up to the bed and shook hands with him across Tara’s unmoving form. She was still curled up into a ball by Rick’s side, soundly asleep. 

        “Jesus said, you were out on patrol. Glad to see, you’re back”, Rick whispered softly in order not to wake the young woman. 

The smile on Glenn’s face made room for a concerned air.

        “We got word, that a group from the Kingdom was on their way over here and we meant to meet up with them. We could have just waited here, but actually this was another good reason to be out there. To look for Daryl”, he added gently. “They never showed up. We don’t know, what happened.”

        “We’ll wait till noon”, Jesus cut in, “then I’m gonna send a message to Ezekiel.”

Rick furrowed his brow. 

        “You’re gonna send a message?”

The smile returned to Glenn’s face. 

        “We got pigeons. Carrier pigeons. That was Ezekiel’s idea. He’s quite good with animals.” The smile even widened. “We’ve been testing them with good results between the Hilltop and the Kingdom during the past month and were gonna take some over to Alexandria soon.”

        “Why don’t you get dressed and come down to the kitchen?” Maggie tossed in. “We’ll tell you all about it over breakfast, before we gotta go to that meeting with Gregory. If you’re up to it.”  

Rick’s expression darkened.

        “Can’t avoid the inevitable, I guess, so we better get it over with. – I’ll be right down.”

With a nod, Jesus, Glenn and Maggie headed out the door to the kitchen, while Rick disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to wash up and get dressed. When he came back out, he found himself looking into Tara’s sleepy brown eyes. 

        “Mornin’”, she said drowsily. 

        “Mornin’ yourself”, Rick answered with a smile. “Looks like you were able to sleep, huh?”

        “Yes. Quite well actually. How about you?”

        “Same. – Although you snore somewhat awful”, he teased.

        “I do not!”  

He couldn’t help grinning about her indignant expression, when a second later Tara’s pillow hit him square in the face and had him freeze. There had been times, this would have made him laugh, but those times ended three months ago. In right that moment, he was reminded of the pillow fight he had had with Daryl when they’d been here last, in that room right below them, when their love relationship had just begun.   
He dropped the pillow onto the bed and the lock in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Again. It just happened again.

        “Rick”, she addressed him cautiously, “I miss him, too. I really do. And I’m sure he’s still out there somewhere, waiting for you to find him. But if you keep taking it to heart like that whenever a single word or incident reminds you of him, it’s gonna kill you.”

He just stared at her wordlessly. 

        “He’d kick you into next week, if he saw you like this”, she added mercilessly. “And we need our leader. Alexandria does, this united forces _thing_ does, so pull yourself together. For him. For your kids. For all of us, including yourself.”

Another long moment he just looked at her quietly, then he grabbed the pillow and tossed it back in her face.

        “Guess, you’re right”, he said, nonchalently, while he headed to the door. “And I best start kicking some ass, first of all Gregory’s.”

She grinned, while she pulled the pillow off her face.

        “I knew, I picked the right guy to spend the night with”, she called after him teasingly. 

 

Half an hour later Rick leaned back in his chair down in the kitchen with a blissful sigh, after finishing two bowls of cereal and a huge cup of delicious coffee. 

        “Thank God, someone here is able to make coffee that doesn’t give people a stroke”, he commented, while placing the mug on the table. 

Maggie couldn’t help giggling about that remark.

        “Let me guess – Eugene?”

Rick nodded with a sigh.

        “Spoon got stuck in the tar he calls coffee last time I dared try it. You made this one, right?”

She nodded with a smile.

        “Think you could just have that baby sooner and come home?” Rick remarked, which triggered another giggle from her.

        “I’ll see, what I can do.”

        “Appreciate it.” He turned to Jesus and, sobering up, asked: “Tell me about those pigeons.”

        “Like I said, it was Ezekiel’s idea. Sometimes the most simple things work the best. Walkies don’t work over such long distances and you never know who else is listening. Sending messengers out, is time consuming and dangerous for them. So we tried that approach. There’s nothing quicker and less suspicous than some stupid bird flying from A to B or the other way round.”

        “So we could send a message to Alexandra now, telling them Tara and I got here unbothered?”

        “No”, Glenn cut in, “it doesn’t work that way. The pigeons only know one way to fly – back home to their dovecote. You can’t _send_ them to any general address. Like Jesus said – stupid birds.” He smiled. “So we would have to take some Hilltop and some Kingdom pigeons to Alexandria first and vice versa, to be able to send messages from there to the other communities. May take a while to establish, but it’s a good way to stay in touch once it works.”

Rick nodded, thinking this over.

        “Sounds good. Sure is worth a try.”

        “We should go see Gregory now”, Jesus said cautiously. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

He got up and the others followed suit. 

        “I’m gonna go see if Tara needs anything”, Glenn announced. “Maybe show her around town a little, while you go talk to Prince Charming.” 

Maggie slapped his shoulder in mock indignation, smiling, before the little group split up. Glenn headed up to the third floor once more, while Jesus led the way to Gregory’s study.    
After he knocked, they waited to be invited, but there was no answer. He cast a confused glance to Rick and Maggie and then knocked again. This time, Gregory’s voice sounded from within in a kind of bored inflection: “Come in.”   
Apparently he had kept them waiting deliberately, which had Rick’s blood pressure rise once again. This man was pushing all of his buttons.   
When they walked in, Gregory was lounging in a large leather armchair behind his impressive desk, his arms on the armrests like a king seated on his throne. He made no move to get up in greeting and there were no other chairs in front of the desk, as though he meant for any caller to remain standing. Rick was barely able to refrain from growling.    
Without waiting for permission, he dragged another armchair from a nearby corner over to the polished wooden desk and gestured for the pregnant Maggie to be seated. Then he lowered himself to the edge of Gregory’s desk, pushing some items there out of the way with a rough shove.    
Gregory sent him a killer scowl.

        “Do you have any manners at all?” the older man snapped furiously.

        “Funny”, Rick answered with forced patience, “I was gonna ask you the same thing just now. You knew we were coming to this meeting. We are fighting a common foe, in case you forgot. So what’s it gonna be? Are we gonna talk like adults or are we gonna waste more time on juvenile power games?” 

With a snort Gregory gestured to two nearby chairs and a moment later Rick and Jesus had pulled those up, too, and sat down. For a while Gregory and Rick tried to stare each other down, when Jesus thought it a good idea to end this and just start what they came here for – a conference.

        “Rick”, he addressed the leader of Alexandria, “why don’t you fill us in on the progress in Alexandria? I take it, you guys have been training over there?”

Narrowing his eyes at Gregory threateningly one last time, Rick turned to him and said:

        “We have. Everybody, no exceptions, has been trained in close combat as well as target practice with every kind of weapon we could get our hands on. Eugene has come up with a way to manufacture more ammo and him and his team have been tirelessly doing just that.”

        “Are you sure, the Saviors didn’t get suspicious?” Maggie cut in with a worried frown on her face.

        “I doubt that. For the most part, we had people practice inside the houses as far as close combat training is concerned, and the target practice we had them do in various warehouses or old barns in the area. Never the same ones on two consecutive days and only in small groups. We are set. How about the Hilltop?”

        “Same here”, Jesus answered. 

Just when he meant to go into detail, Gregory cut in:

        “Are you sure, you are up to leading Alexandria into a war?” he addressed Rick, having the younger man turn to him with an icy look in his eyes. “No offense, but have you taken a look in the mirror lately?”

Maggie heard Rick suck in the air and placed a hand on top of his in order to calm him. She knew he was about to head over that desk and punch Gregory in the face. Something she had wanted to do herself countless times in the past. 

        “Rick has led us ever since the outbreak”, she spoke up for him. “He has lost someone recently, but that doesn’t diminish his ability to lead. It never has.”

That was a lie and she knew it. She remembered vividly how Rick had lost it after Lori’s death and this time there was no Daryl to catch him, to stop him from spiraling downwards. But she would rather have bitten off her tongue, than say that out loud. She trusted him, still. In the end, he always got back on his feet and did whatever he could to not disappoint the trust placed in him. There was no one else she would have wanted to see at Alexandria’s helm. 

        “Well, let’s hope so”, Gregory said smugly. “We’d risk a lot with the wrong people at the helm.”

        “We already do”, Rick couldn’t help saying, staring daggers at the arrogant man once more. 

        “What we really need to do”, Jesus cut in quickly to prevent a war from breaking out right there and then, “is to have our people learn how to fight _together._ We need to have a strategy, common signals, or they’ll be all over the place like a bunch of headless chicken.” 

          “And”, Maggie added, “we need some kind of uniform or any other way to tell our fighters from the Saviors. The people of our communities don’t know each other. They would end up killing each other, so maybe we should think about … I don’t know, brassards?”

          “Oh please”, Gregory was heard the next moment. “Brassards? You wanna start a sewing circle to have brassards for dozens of people?”

          “If we have to, yes”, Maggie replied, annoyance clearly peppering her inflection. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Jesus didn’t even wait for Gregory’s reply, knowing only too well that the older man did _not_ have a better idea. In fact, he didn’t have any ideas _at all._ Why he was still the leader of this town was totally beyond him.

          “Brassards is a good idea, but there’s a risk that the Saviors would just take them from any unfortunate soul they defeated and use them as disguise. You know, to infiltrate our troops. They are too easily taken and applied to the wrong people.”

Rick and Maggie looked at him expectantly, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

          “Sorry. Wish I had a better idea, but right now …”

The door opening behind him had all four of them focus their attention on the new arrival. Rose stood in the doorway, not in the least cowed by Gregory’s icy glare.

          “Sorry, to disturb your powwow, but the sentry just announced several approaching riders. Could be the Kingdom patrol you were waiting for.”

          “Oh, how lovely”, Gregory commented sarcastically, “more people to eat our food and carry in dirt.”

Maggie felt Rick tense and once more her hand tightened around his, while she cast him a calming glance. He pulled in a couple of deep breaths and tried to relax, but the furious glow in his eyes remiained.

          “I best go greet them”, Jesus said, referring to the Kingdom patrol, but Gregory’s palm, angrily slammed onto the top of the table, had him freeze.

          “Stay! We are in the middle of a meeting. Although it’s been rather a waste of time so far, we are not gonna drop everything, just because those Kingdom people appear on their stinking horses. They can wait.”

          “ _I’ll_ greet them”, Rose tossed in, “and tell them to make sure their horses only leave their droppings in the assigned areas.”

Gregory’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

          “You’re better not making fun of me here, _nurse._ ”

          “Wouldn’t think of it, _chief._ ” She turned around to leave, but then looked over her shoulder once more. “By the way – warpaint is a better idea than brassards.”

That said, she closed the door behind her, more forceful than necessary.

          “Warpaint?” Gregory’s eyes were blazing, while the other three suppressed a smirk.

Obviously the sturdy nurse had been eavesdropping in front of the door and Gregory wasn’t even aware of that.

          “She is right”, Jesus said with an impressed nod a moment later, smiling to himself about Rose’s love for western movies. “Warpaint is not only intimidating, it is impossible to copy quickly on a field of battle. We can easily identify our people, a common symbol will strengthen their sense of community and we are secure against imposters.”  
         
          “And now we let people like that dinosaur plan our war strategy?” Gregory commented sourly.

          “Whoever has anything useful to contribute _at all_ ”, Rick shot back.

Jesus couldn’t help sighing. The war was already underway. 


	5. Chapter 5

When Rose stepped out of the front door and looked towards the gate, it was being opened in that moment and four Kingdom fighters were riding onto the square. She knew the leader of that group. Richard. King Ezekiel’s right-hand man. He had been here before and had had the _pleasure_ of attending one or the other meeting with Gregory. It was most fortunate that Rick was here now, so delegates of all three communities would be at one table. It was about time.

She squinted her eyes against the sun and frowned the next moment. There was something wrong. Voices that reached her ear sounded agitated and there was a fifth horse, but the man on top wasn’t sitting upright – he was lying across its back sideways. Two of the other horses carried two persons each, which was more than unusual as well.  
Rose’s pulse rate picked up and she hurried across the square. Something happened.  
When she reached the first horse, she saw Richard carefully lower a young woman with long, red locks into Eduardo’s arms, before he dismounted nimbly.  
He spotted her instantly and hurried towards her.  
        
          “Rose, get the doctor quickly, please.”

          “What happened?”

          “We’re not sure. We came across a group of survivors – two men, a boy, two women. They were attacked.”

Her eyes widened.

          “By the Saviors?”

          “We can’t tell. No time to explain now. The old man and the boy are dead. We tried to help them and lost one of our own.” He breathed in deep. “The other guy got a good hit to the head – he’s unconscious, but stable. The women …”

He broke off and swallowed thickly, while a terrible hunch rose inside of the elderly nurse. She cast the young redhead a glance and saw the terrified look in the woman’s eyes, the way she limped, the bruises on her face and wrists and the blood on her thighs.  
All color seemed to drop off Rose’s face.

          “Oh, my God. I’ll get Harlan. Take the women into his trailer instantly, please, and have someone carry the man up to a patient’s room on the second floor. You know where, don’t you?”

Richard nodded.

          “I do it myself.”

          “I’ll see to him as soon as the poor girls are taken care of.” She cursed under her breath and hurried away to find the doctor.

 

For another ten minutes Gregory, Jesus, Rick and Maggie tried to keep their meeting going, but much to the older man’s annoyance the attention of the other three people was clearly not focussed on him any longer or the reason they came here for, but on the events out on the square.  
There was shouting, people running about, commotion. When he heard heavy booted feet trampling down the stairs outside his door, Gregory jumped to his feet.

          “They wouldn’t dare …” He hurried to the door and pulled it open forcefully.

          “Gregory”, a friendly, however serious voice greeted him in the hall, but was cut short when the older man snapped:

          “Did you just trample over my precious carpets with those dirty boots, carrying horseshit all over …”

          “Richard!” It took all of Jesus’ willpower not to push Gregory out of the way or slap him up the back of his head. He wished Rose was here now. She might have.  
          “It’s good to see you again. We’ve been expecting you earlier.”

          “We ran into trouble.” The man looked exhausted and somewhat shaken.

          “Come in”, Jesus invited him into Gregory’s study, ignoring the killer scowl on the older man’s face.

At the door, Richard was met by Maggie and Rick and he extended his hand to her first, recognizing the young woman instantly. Then he shook hands with Rick, casting him a questioning glance.

          “Richard”, Jesus introduced, “this is Rick, the leader of the Alexandria safe zone. Rick, this is Richard, King Ezekiel’s right-hand man. It’s a wonderful coincidence, that we have important people of all three communities here now.”  
          _“And Gregory”_ , he added secretly.

A smile spread over Richard’s face.

          “You are the guy who led his group to attack that Savior compound the other day”, he said with admiration clearly coloring his inflection.

          “Not the best idea”, Rick replied gravely.

          “Not the worst, either.” Richard squeezed his hand once more, before he let go. “Pleasure to meet you.”

          “Likewise.”

          “And since we are all so incredibly civilized here”, Gregory said sarcastically, “maybe next time you could use the doormat, before …”

          “Sorry about that”, Richard cut him short unimpressed, “but I had to take someone upstairs to the patient’s rooms.”

He had everybody’s undivided attention instantly, much to Gregory’s displeasure, who was still sulking about the dirt on his carpets.

          “Have a seat”, Jesus said to the Kingdom fighter, before he pulled up another chair and everybody got seated to be filled in on the latest events.  
“Tell us what happened.”

“We would have been here earlier, but about fifteen miles away from here we heard shots, screams … We checked it out and came across that small group of survivors. It was an old man, a boy of about eight, a younger man, two women – they were being attacked by a group of six guys. Heavy armed, weird disguise … We tried to help those people, but we came too late. They had already killed the old man and the boy and the other guy had taken a heavy blow to his head. He was unconscious. One of those monsters was about to cut his throat, while the others were … they were … The women …”

“Oh my God”, Maggie gasped, instantly catching on and growing as pale as Rose before.

“We stopped them, but lost one of our own, Steve, in the process. We killed three of them, but the others got away.”

“Saviors?” Rick asked with furrowed brows.

Richard shock his head.

          “I don’t think so. The Saviors are bastards and the worst scum of all is their leader, but even they got rules, live by a code. They never hurt children and by no means would they ever rape a woman. From what I heard, Negan’s got four _wives_ , so he’s not the romantic Romeo and Juliet kinda guy, but they say those women are to his _service_ of their own free will.”

He saw doubtful looks on the faces around him and shrugged.

          “Hey, face it – the three ingredients to have women …” He cast Maggie a glance and corrected quickly … “ _a certain kind_ of women be attracted to men are power, wealth and looks. And Negan’s got all three of them combined. If there was an opening for the job of wife No. 5, one had best draw a number and get in line. He doesn’t have to force women to do anything against their will and he deeply despises rape. If word got to him, that any of his men did what we saw happening there today, he would skin them alive. And I’m not kidding here. He’s done worse for less. No, those assholes were not Saviors.”

Jesus let his breath out with a puff.

          “I’m not sure that is good news. Means there is another enemy out there we don’t know yet. And they may be even worse than the Saviors.”

 

Harlan stepped out of his trailer and breathed in and out a couple of times, trying to still his racing heartbeat. He had been a doctor for a long time, but in all those years he had never seen a woman, who had to endure what his latest patients had to, and this degree of human cruelty had him shudder. How people were able to do things like that, he would never understand.  
The two unfortunate women had been taken to the patient’s rooms, where they would hopefully find the peace to rest and heal. There wasn’t much he was able to do, save for treating their physical injuries. The wounds that ran way deeper were of the mental kind.  
While the older woman had been surprisingly composed, the younger one had been completely hysterical when he had tried to examine her. Which was understandable. He was yet another man who was about to touch her without permission, and although he meant her no harm, she had screamed and kicked like mad. In the end, he had had no choice but to sedate her and she would sleep for a good while now. She was young, in her twenties, and very pretty with her long, thick, red locks and the freckles on her nose – she had probably gotten the majority of _attention_ from those animals.  
For a moment there he felt the urge to get a stiff drink or a smoke, although he usually neither drank, nor smoked, which was a clear indication of how the incident had upset him as well. Before he could indulge the desire for alcohol or nicotine, a female voice calling his name from the balcony startled him.

          “Harlan!” Rose’s chubby face looked over the parapet, while she gestured to him in agitation. “Get up here, quickly.”

Now what? His pulse picked up once more. Those women had been alright just a moment ago. No, not alright, but as good as to be expected under the circumstances. What …?

          “Anytime _today_ , Harlan Carson!” Rose’s demanding voice derailed his train of thought and pulled him out of his stupor.

The next second he hurried to his trailer to get his bag. The other patient! He had completely forgotten about the man, Richard and his group had brought in along with the two ladies.  
He grabbed the bag and ran over to the Barrington House as quickly as possible. All this running and being ordered around hadn’t been part of the job description when he had chosen to become a doctor. He had studied for this. He had taken an exam, had passed as head of the class, owned a doctor’s degrees – and got ordered around by Rose Mitchell day in, day out. _Nurse_ Rose Mitchell. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Was everything upside down in this world now?

After she had seen Harlan get into gear, Rose headed back to the door, eager to return to her new patient. The moment she entered the corridor, she was greeted by a hissing and growling sound to her right, a second before her other patient, old Mrs. Fisher, came stumbling out of her room, her fingers clawing at her.  
Rose shrieked.  
She had forgotten to close the old lady’s door, when she had hurried to see to the patient in the room on the other side of the corridor. _Their_ room.

She caught herself time and again thinking that, whenever she entered this particular room. Why she had developed such a soft spot for Daryl and Rick, two men she barely even knew, was still beyond her, but something about those two and about the young love she had witnessed, had touched her deep down inside. They were _special._ Always would be. She would have loved to see Daryl again one last time, before … _“No! Stop it, Rose”,_ she had chided herself just as many times as coming near this room had made her think about him. _“He is_ not _dead.”_

But Mrs. Fisher obviously was. The old lady had been asleep when Rose had left her. And she had been stable. There’d been no reason to assume, she would … But she had. And she had turned, without anybody noticing.  
Surprisingly quick for a woman of 89 years of age, Mrs. Fisher stumbled towards the sturdy nurse, trying to get hold of her with flailing arms, while Rose drew back. She could run. There was still time. She wouldn’t be quick, but neither were the walkers, so there was a good chance of success, if she headed down the corridor now.  
But that would mean leaving her other patients unprotected. The doors to the women’s rooms were closed, but the one to _their_ room stood ajar. The patient was unconscious. He would be easy prey.  
She didn’t even have to think twice. In an instant she turned on her heels and ran back into the room, but she never got to close the door, because Mrs. Fisher was right behind her – if walkers still had breath, Rose would have felt it in the back of her neck now. A hand got hold of her cardigan and with another shriek, Rose pulled her arms out of the sleeves and let the attacker have it.  
Her eyes came to rest on her unconscious, defenseless patient and the next second, rage started to boil inside of her. She grabbed the chair that stood next to the bed and whirled around on her heels, holding the piece of furniture up as a shield between her and the walker. She felt like an animal trainer in a circus, trying to hold a lion or tiger in check. And the danger was equal, although a big cat’s teeth could hardly be compared to old Mrs. Fisher’s dentures. Rose wasn’t eager to find out though, how hard walkers with dentures were able to bite.

          “Get away from me, you!” she yelled, although she was aware that yelling at walkers was totally senseless. “And I want my cardigan back! That one was new, so  there better be no holes or stains in it.”

She jabbed out with the chair’s legs time and again, but the walker was hungry and it had two delicious pieces of meat right in front of its dentures, unrelentingly trying to get to them.

          “Help!!!!” Rose yelled at the top of her lungs. “Anybody?! Heeeellllpppp!! Walker!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

To her utmost relief she heard several quickly approaching feet a moment later.

Glenn and Tara had been up in the tower, where he had shown her the fantastic view from up there and were just headed back down, when they heard Rose yell for help.  
She was heard on the first floor as well and everybody in the study, save for Gregory, was up on their feet instantly.

          “Was that Rose?” Jesus asked with wide eyes.

          “Sounded like her”, Maggie confirmed. “It came from upstairs. The patient’s rooms.”

Without hesitating another second Rick, Jesus, Richard and Maggie ran to the door. On reaching it, Jesus pulled it open and the next second was out in the hall with Richard, while Rick blocked the way when Maggie meant to follow them.

          “Stay here with Gregory”, Rick said to the young woman insistently, receiving an indignant frown in return.

          “I’m pregant, not disabled. I don’t need a babysitter.”

          “I _know._ But _he_ does”, Rick replied, loud enough for Gregory to hear him. “Lock the door!”

Then he ran out into the hall, where he was met by Harlan and together they hurried up the stairs after Richard and Jesus. Grinning to herself, Maggie closed the door and walked back to her seat in front of Gregory’s desk, barely able to suppress a smirk when she saw him sulk.

 

Glenn and Tara were already running down the corridor towards Rose’s furiously yelling voice, when Rick and the other three men reached the second floor and followed in hot pursuit.

          “Let go!” Rose was just yelling at the walker, who had gotten hold of one of the chair’s legs. It was clutching it in an iron grasp, when Tara burst into the room first, Glenn on her heels.

          “Shit!”

The young woman stopped dead in her tracks on seeing the walker and fumbled on her belt and in the pockets of her hoodie, but she was unarmed. A glance in Glenn’s direction confirmed her apprehension, that he had been too careless around this apparently safe place as well. He, too, didn’t even have a knife on him.

          “Take your time”, Rose called over to them sarcastically, “I’m having a ball here with Mrs. Fisher.”

For a split second Tara and Glenn locked eyes and instantly came to a silent understanding. The next moment Tara tackled the walker like a professional football player and dragged the old lady down to the floor with her, pinning her to the ground long enough for Glenn to forcefully jump on the walker’s head with both feet. Unfortunately he didn’t have the weight that would have been required to squish the skull and with surprising strength old Mrs. Fisher pushed Tara off of her back. She was just about to get up, her hands clawing at Tara now, when Harlan was over her and stabbed a scalpel into her temple.  
He held his hand out to Tara and forced a smile.

          “Someone called for a doctor in here?”

A little shaken, but returning the smile nevertheless, Tara reached for his hand and let him pull her off the floor.

          “Thanks.”

Richard and Jesus appeared in the doorway, looking at the walker and Glenn, who was just struggling back to his feet, while Rick brushed past them and approached Rose.

          “You alright?”

She lowered the chair she was still holding like a shield and put it down with shaking hands.  
Even after all these years and although she had been out there a few times recently, she had never been this close to a walker before. And she had never been alone with one. Feeling this helpless was entirely new to her. She had always had the self-confidence and assertiveness to have people see things her way and get what she wanted – she had never been a victim. But walkers were no _people_ anymore. For a while there, she had been blind to that, had pushed the fact that a large part of mankind was a herd of mindless predators far into a dark corner of her mind. But sweet, kind old Mrs. Fisher had just tried to kill her and had made her a victim for the first time in her life, destroying the last bit of naivity and innocence, she’d been able to preserve.  
She nodded hesitatingly to Rick’s question, before her attitude took command once again and had her straighten up determinedly. Before she could say anything though, Harlan turned to her and chided:

          “Why didn’t you run? I can’t believe you were trying to fight a walker all by yourself, unarmed.”  

          “I had a chair.”

          “You could have gotten hurt!”

For a moment there, she was surprised and touched by his concern, before she replied:  
          “If I’d waited for _you_ and the cavalry here, Mrs. Fisher would have had our patient for breakfast. And I don’t appreciate anybody eating my patients, Harlan Carson. Not on my watch!”

The doctor looked at her with wide eyes, while the other people present had to suppress a smirk. That woman was a force of nature. Shaking his head, Harlan tried to look past the nurse at the patient in question, asking:  
        
          “Is he alright?”

He meant to approach the bed, when she blocked his way and something about the look in her eyes drew everybody’s attention to her.  
She shrugged as words failed her, then reached for Rick’s hand and pulled him gently to her side.  
The moment his eyes came to rest on the unmoving patient behind Rose’s back, his knees gave way instantly and he sagged bonelessly to the edge of the bed, gasping.  
“Daryl!”

 

Down in Gregory’s study the leader of the Hilltop community was fuming. He was watching the young woman, who was seated in her chair across his desk, with angrily blazing eyes and gritted teeth.

          _“Not one minute”,_ she thought to herself and found her assumption clearly proven, when it took Gregory exactly 48 seconds before he felt the need to vent his anger.

          “This is preposterous! The old bat probably saw a mouse or something. I really don’t see why everybody had to run off as though the house was on fire.”

          “You know Rose”, Maggie answered calmly. “I doubt a mouse would scare her.”  
“ _Rather the other way around”,_ she added silently.

“It’s simply outrageous to leave a meeting and keep me waiting like this”, Gregory ranted, before he slammed his palms onto the tabletop once more and got up.

He started pacing the room, casting an angry glance to the door every other moment, obviously thinking about going out there and demanding the participants of this meeting to come back right away. It was a thing unheard of for anyone to leave this room without having been dismissed and now three people at once dared do just that. And even left him to the care of a babysitter. A female and pregnant babysitter, as though he was a senil old fool.

          “Gregory”, Maggie addressed him, mustering all of her patience, “they didn’t leave this meeting for the fun of it. There is something going on out there and they were trying to protect us when they left us here.”

          “Do I look like I needed protection? I was able to defend myself and run a town when you were still pooping your diapers, young lady. Besides, that brazen face of a nurse going into hysterics is no excuse for _everybody_ to run off like that. Jesus could have handled that by himself. That’s what he’s here for.”

He saw Maggie furrow her brow and continued.

          “It’s important for a leader to have a right-hand man, you know. To do the dirty work he can’t impossibly be bothered with personally. _Right-hand man_ is a nicer term for _henchman_. Simple as that.” He wrinkled his nose. “I assume, Rick doesn’t have a right-hand man?”

Maggie fought against a stinging sensation in her eyes, while she swallowed thickly, fighting an immense wave of fury along with sadness.

          “He did”, she choked out, “but Daryl was nothing like a henchman. He was …”

          “Daryl? That dirty, uncivilized caveman Rose dared bring into my house …”

“Shut up!” Maggie jumped to her feet and leaned heavily on the desk, placing one hand protectively over her baby bump and breathing in deep to compose herself.  
“Just – shut – up”, she repeated slowly and like a growl. “You have no right to talk like that about someone you never knew. Daryl was part of our family. We all loved him and he was an immese support to Rick …”

          “Pff”, Gregory tossed in an annoyed snort, “but Rick obviously got too attached, which is precisely why a right-hand man should never be more than what I said – a henchman. A leader still needs to be able to function, even if he lost his right hand. That someone needs to be replacable at any given time. I wouldn’t have any problem moving on if Jesus wasn’t around anymore. Would just be hell of a hassle having to break in someone new.”

Maggie breathed heavily, trying to control her racing heartbeat and fury.

          “You know, in that case I best go look where he is and make sure, you don’t have _to break in someone new_. To save you the hassle”, she answered with sarcasm clearly peppering her inflection. “Since you are able to protect yourself, you don’t need me around here anyway.”

That said, she headed for the door. She had to get out of here. This man robbed her of the ability to breathe, as though the air around him turned to poison the moment he opened his mouth and spat his venom.

          “You’re not leaving, too!”

It wasn’t a request, it was a command.

          “Watch me”, Maggie hissed, before she slammed the door shut behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite her best attempts to shoo everybody out of the room, Rose had to give in to group dynamics, when everybody gathered around the bed to take a look at the unconscious archer.

        “We’re still not at the zoo”, she chided. “You’ve all seen him now, so give Harlan and me some time to examine him, please.”

Jesus cast her a surprised glance.

        “Did you say _please_?” 

The incident with the walker must have shocked the elderly nurse more than she was willing to admit.

        “Paul Rovia, which part of ‘get out’ did you not understand?”

Jesus sighed. Obviously she hadn’t been shocked enough. He gave Richard and Glenn a nod, silently prompting them to accompany him outside and a moment later they had disappeared out into the corridor.    
Tara sat on the edge of the bed next to Rick and looked at Daryl with blurry eyes. 

All these months she had hoped, almost expected the archer to show up at the gate of Alexandria one of these days, a bunch of squirrels slung over his shoulder, determinedly ordering the sentry to ‘let him the hell in’. She had pictured him gruffly dismissing any kind of fuss people would have made about his long absence, simply saying something like “Don’t know what ya’ll want. Just took me a li’l longer ta catch ‘em freakin' squirrels, ‘s all.”    
That imagination had made her smile. It had helped to maintain her hopes, to lift her mood, to ban the mere possibility from her mind that he may never return. She had shared it with Rick one day and remembered vividly how his eyes had become shiny, while a brave smile had tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had done the same all that time. Stubbornly dismissing the possibilty, that Daryl would _not_ return to him. Of course, he would be back. He just needed a little more time. But any day now, he would march through the gate of Alexandria as though nothing had happened.

But obviously something _had_ happened. This was not the man that had left on a hunting trip three months ago. He was pale and way thinner than when they had last seen him. There was a scar on his forehead and a fresh, still bleeding gash close to his left temple. He’d never been a very neat person, but now he was downright dirty, as though he’d spent the past months out in the woods without ever having enough water available to wash up properly. He was a mess, no more, no less, and Tara’s heart went out to him. And to Rick.   
Daryl was back. He was alive. He was right here. And still their beautiful rainbow bubble just burst in their faces. Unlike their imagination, the archer had apparently not just been on a longer hunting trip – he had been to hell and back.   
Undoubtably Rick was blaming himself for what happened to Daryl in right this moment. For not sending out search parties the first day or the second after his disappearance, but only on the fourth. For only being out there looking for Daryl twelve hours a day, instead of thirteen or fourteen or staying out there altogether. For  letting him leave by himself to go on those hunting trips at all. For letting Morgan talk him into not sending every available person out to search further after a while.   
Daryl had been out there all this time. They could have found him. They may have been able to save him from whatever happened to him, from whatever he had to endure, while he should have been home with Rick and their children. This shouldn’t have happened. This didn’t have to happen.

Tara expected Rick to say it out loud any second now. _“It’s all my fault”._ She totally expected him to say something like that, but he didn’t. In fact, he sat totally motionless next to her, simply staring at Daryl with tears in his eyes, barely daring to breathe. He seemed to have frozen, as though any sound or movement would break the magic and Daryl would just disappear again, have him wake up from this dream to find himself alone once more in a world without the man he loved.    
She reached out her hand and placed it gently on his.

        “You did everything you could, everything. It’s not your fault.”

He didn’t look at her and he didn’t ask, either. So she was right, he _did_ blame himself. The way he always did.    
A hand on her shoulder had her crane her neck and look into the chubby face of the elderly nurse. 

        “You can visit with him later”, Rose said softly. “Right now the doctor and I need to do our job here.”

Tara nodded and got up, after giving Rick’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She bent down to Daryl, placed a kiss on his stringy and way too long hair and then headed to the door.    
Before she joined the others out in the corridor, Rose’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

        “Thank you”, the elderly woman said gently, before she looked over to Glenn. “Both of you.”

They both gave her a curt nod and a smile, when Harlan’s voice sounded from behind her back:

        “What about me?” 

        “You were taking your sweet time getting up here, while those two saved my precious behind. It’s more likely for a bus to arrive here on schedule, than for you to show up in time when I call for you”, Rose retorted, while Harlan’s mouth just gapped open, as so many times before.

Jesus stuck his head through the door and said to the spreechless physician:

        “Don’t worry, one day you’ll get the appreciation you deserve – probably the day Rose is gonna call me Jesus.” 

        “Fresh!”

That said, Rose pushed him back out into the corridor and firmly shut the door.   
Rick was going to stay. Neither Harlan, nor Rose even considered asking him to wait outside as well, now that he was finally reunited with his other half. There was no force in this world able to make Rick leave Daryl’s side.    
When the nurse walked up to the bed once more, approaching Rick with a worried air on her face, Harlan snapped out of his stupor and decided to dismiss the previous incident. This wasn’t the time to ponder over Rose Mitchell’s antics.    
While she placed a gentle hand on Rick’s shoulder to get his attention, Harlan grabbed a spare blanket at the foot of the bed and covered old Mrs. Fisher, saying a little prayer as he did so. 

He was aware of the fact that most people didn’t see human beings in the walkers anymore, but he had never been able to forget that they once were. That they had been living, breathing persons, who had a name, families, a story. After they turned, they were something else, fact, and they were dangerous, lethal beings, but he paid them respect nevertheless. At least those he had known _before._   
Old Mrs. Fisher had been a wonderful lady, friendly, generous and caring. He had seen to her quite often, her age calling for medical assistance almost on a daily base. Harlan knew well what some people thought about him taking care of the old lady; knew what they said behind his back, too cowardly to say it out loud and to his face – that giving an almost ninety year old woman any of their precious meds was a waste, since she had nothing to contribute, was a worthless member of any community and wouldn’t last much longer anyhow. Obviously some people had no respect and appreciation for people even while they were still alive.   
The old lady hadn’t been able to go on runs, to fight, to help in the gardens or have babies in order to ensure the survival of mankind. But she had stories to tell, that had made their children laugh. She had wisdom to share with people, who despaired in this world and needed advice and hope. She had seen two world wars and was strong at heart and mind, able to lift people’s spirit. And she remembered how things were done before computers took over and ruled the world.    
Harlan hadn’t told anyone, but the carrier pigeons had been Mrs. Fisher’s idea before they had become Ezekiel’s project. People wouldn’t trust the idea, if they knew it came from the person they considered totally useless, so Harlan had secretly mentioned it to Richard during an earlier visit of the Kingdom people, asking him to keep a lid on the source. But it pained the physician to know that the old lady would never get the respect and praise she deserved. 

He shuddered at the memory of how Tara had pinned her to the floor, while Glenn had jumped on her head – before he had driven his own scalpel into her temple. Had anyone ever thanked her properly for all she’d done for them? He would make sure, she got the burial she deserved and he would personally say all the words that needed to be said – loud and clear, so everybody would hear them and hopefully understand. He just wished those words had been said during her lifetime.

        “Rick?”

Rose’s voice drew his attention back to her and their patients and after placing his hand gently on Mrs. Fisher’s head once, he staightened up and walked back over to the bed.   
Patients … Harlan hadn’t consciously included Rick, but his overall demeanor and constitution absolutely qualified Alexandria’s leader as such. They had better keep an eye on him as well. Rick had suffered deep wounds over the past months. Not the kind that were visible to the eye, but they were _there_ nevertheless and maybe they were even severer than any gash could have been. 

        “We need you to go sit over on the other side of the bed, dear, so we can have a look at Daryl.”

He looked up at her with blurry eyes. 

        “He’s really here, isn’t he?”

She smiled at him and cupped his cheek for a moment.

        “Yes, he is. Unless he’s got a very dirty twin out there.”

That remark had a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, too, and he stood to move around the bed as she requested. When Harlan appeared by her side, Rose cast him a sideglance, before shortly looking over her shoulder at Mrs. Fisher. Wordlessly she reached out her hand and gave Harlan’s arm a hearty squeeze, stubbornly ignoring his surprised look though. Then she focussed on Daryl once again. 

        “Don’t do that”, the doctor commented gently, “if _I_ have a heart attack, who’s gonna resurrect me?” 

Rolling her eyes, she reached out once more to _slap_ his arm this time, which had his lips twitch in amusement.

        “Thanks. I feel so much better now. _This_ is the world I know”, he said teasingly, before focussing his attention on their patient as well.

Rick sat on the edge of the bed on the other side and couldn’t tear his eyes off Daryl’s face. Sometimes, in very low moments, there had been the thought that he would never see this face again. He hadn’t allowed that thought to linger for longer than a split second, so it wouldn’t take hold and grow from a mere idea to a belief. Still, seeing this beloved face before his eyes again, finally, was hard to believe. Somehow he still dreaded to wake any second and find that it had just been a dream.

The gash on Daryl’s head had stopped bleeding by now and Rose was carefully cleaning it with an iodine soaked cloth, while Harlan shone a flashlight in Darly’s eyes to check his reflexes and took a closer look at the scar on the archer’s forehead.

        “Did he have that last time you saw him?” he asked Rick, seeing the other man shake his head in reply. “Huh, looks like he’s taken more than one heavy blow to his head in the past months then. He’s probably suffering a severe concussion, maybe even a contusion.”

A pinch to his side had him fall quiet with a suppressed yelp, while Rose said in a soothing inflection:

        “We best don’t jump to conclusions. He is malnourished and dehydrated, that much is obvious and we’re gonna start by treating that.” She shot Harlan a warning glance. “The rest will fall into place.”     
“I’m starting to think Daryl likes being under my care”, Rose winked at Rick. “Soon as he wakes up, make sure to tell him he doesn’t have to get shot or do _this_ to get some of my delicious elderberry tea around this place.”

Rick forced a smile.

        “Humor again, Rose?”

She returned the smile, while she reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

        “Best remedy I’ve got to offer.” 

After she was done cleaning Daryl’s head wound, she and the doctor started opening his shirt and pants, carefully peeling him out of the dirty rags. Her gasp was audible, when the patient’s condition was clearly visible a moment later. Every rib stuck out and in between the layers of dirt appeared to be several bruises. It was hard to tell, for this man barely had one spot of clean skin on his body.    
Harlan shook his head.

        “Looks like that group has spent the past months out in the woods permanently and autumn isn’t the best season to be outside. It’s been raininig, it’s cold at nights and it’s muddy, some animals hide for their hibernation, so hunting is difficult, food is rare and …”

Rose’s elbow to his ribs stopped him once more and when he looked up in surprise, somewhat indignant about the repeated _maltreatment_ , he noticed her annoyed eye-roll and a nod in Rick’s direction. Rick’s face was ashen and deep lines of worry marred his handsome face. 

        “The sensitivity of a sledgehammer”, Rose murmured with another sideglance to Harlan, before she gently pushed one strand of the long bangs out of Daryl’s face.    
Then she looked up at the archer’s boyfriend.

Rick stared ahead of himself, pale as a sheet. He felt drained of all strength. For months, he had barely taken a breather – neither physically, nor mentally. His nerves had been strung like a string on Daryl’s crossbow, permanently, close to the breaking point for three long months. The nightmare should have ended here and now, but there were new worries, new fears. It wasn’t over yet.    
He would have liked to just lie down next to Daryl now, wrap his arms around the man he loved and sleep while he held him close. They were even on _their_ sides of the bed, the way they had agreed on sleeping arrangements back home. If he closed his eyes, he would be able to pretend they were – back home. In their house, their room, with their children and friends next door. He just wanted the nightmare to finally end. 

        “ …. Rick!” 

Only now, after she had addressed him the second time, Rose’s voice got through to him. 

        “We need to clean Daryl up”, she said softly. “There is no way of telling what other injuries are underneath all of that dirt. If maybe there’s b… “ She stopped and swallowed what she had meant to say, ending the sentence by going: “ … bruises.” 

        “Bites”, Rick croaked out barely audibly. “That’s what you meant to say, right? You wanna check if he was bitten.”

        “It’s necessary”, Harlan said softly. “Just to make sure.”  He cast a look to the spot where Mrs. Fisher was lying and nodded in her direction. “We can’t risked a repetition of that.”

Rick’s eyes grew cold.

        “And if you find a bite, what are you gonna do?”

        “Why don’t we cross that bridge when we get to it?” Rose suggested. “If it makes you feel better, you can stay and give us a hand.”

 

Asking Rick to stay and give them a hand proved to be a smart move. Not that he would have had it any other way, but without him it would have been quite an adventure for Rose and Harlan to move the unconscious archer over to the bathroom.    
The doctor was anything but happy about the fact, that they were moving a patient with a concussion, or worse, _at all,_ but Rose was right – dirty like this, they had no way of examining and treating him thoroughly.    
The two women of that group hadn’t been neat as a pin, either, but they hadn’t looked as though they had lived in a hog wallow. Maybe this was deliberate? As a disguise or protection against insects? Did it maybe even work against walkers? Or people? _If you don’t want to be touched, look downright untouchable_.    
Rose couldn’t remember who once said that, but there was some truth to that saying and maybe Daryl did pursue some kind of strategy. But then, maybe Fate had just been a bitch again and this was what three months of struggle for survival in the wilderness looked like.    
The two men had cautiously carried the patient over to the bathroom, where they had hesitated shortly. Bathtub or shower? After a second, Harlan had nodded over to the shower. 

        “Takes too long to run a bath now. Besides, he’s gonna end up lying in a mudbath as soon as all that dirt comes off, and the spray of a shower may even revive his spirits.”

Before Harlan could even ask, Rick offered:

        “I’ll go in with him and hold him.”

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Rose and saw her nod. It was a good idea and definitely the best way to handle this and the most comfortable way for Daryl, but they both knew that this wasn’t just in the archer’s best interest. It was for Rick’s sake as well. He needed to do this. Help. Take care of the man he loved. Hold him in his arms again. Feel, that he was here and alive. Do _anything_ at all to make up just a little bit for failing him before.   
When the two men started taking the rest of Darly’s clothes off and Rick started to strip himself, Rose discreetly left the room. She was a nurse and had seen it all, but she was sure Rick would appreciate her _not_ being there. Shortly after she had left, Harlan exited the bathroom as well, while the sound of a shower being turned on was heard from within.    
He locked eyes with Rose and together they sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting. They weren’t needed in there now. They weren’t _wanted,_ either. The door stood ajar and they could assist at any time, but until Rick called for them, they would stay put.

The water felt wonderful as it ran in hot, steaming cascades over Rick’s head and down his body. He held the shower head in his left hand and had the water run over his curls and the cramped up muscles in his neck and shoulders, indulging in the feeling. He sat on the floor of the shower stall, his unconscious boyfriend in between his spread legs, holding him securely pressed to his chest. Daryl’s head rested against his shoulder and Rick could feel the archer’s strong and steady heartbeat underneath his palm and his even breathing against his chest.    
When he had turned the water on, it had been too cold at first, then too hot and Rick had made sure to test the temperature on himself until it was just right. And it was now. Just right. All of this was.   
He tightened his grip around Daryl and closed his eyes, indulging in the sensation of the warm water running over his naked body and Daryl’s equally warm skin against his own. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that.    
Reopening his eyes, he lowered the shower head and aimed the water jet on Daryl’s body, while he picked up a piece of soap with the other hand and moved it gently over his lover’s chest. He made this a sensual experience for both of them, although Daryl was unlikely to notice. But the task was to get him cleaned up and revive his spirits and Rick didn’t see why he shouldn’t make this as pleasant as possible. He took his time, ran gentle circles over the archer’s chest and stomach and watched in awe as dark rivers of dirt started flowing off the older man’s body and disappeared into the drain.    
Rick remembered other showers they had taken together. Remembered the sensation of hot water streaming over heated skin and hands running over each others body. He moaned softly, when he grew hard almost instantly, chiding himself for it the next moment. Daryl was injured, he was in a bad way and this was hardly the time for sexual fantasies. But it had been so long, since he had held this man in his arms. God, he had missed him so badly.   
He concentrated on his task again. Forked his soapy fingers gently through Daryl’s tangled and greasy hair and started working his way down from there. Unexpectately the archer started stirring in his arms. His eyelids fluttered and he moaned the second some of his consciousness returned, lifting his hands to press them to his temples. 

        “Sssshh”, Rick tried to soothe him, “you’ve got a head injury. Sit still.”

The voice behind him startled the older man and he struggled to sit up, disorientated, his sight blurry and a throbbing headache making him nauseous.   
Water was running from his wet bangs into his eyes, the air was humid and difficult to breathe, steam blocked his sight and he was confined in a narrow room he couldn’t identify. Where was he? What was going on? Someone was there with him. Behind his back. A man. He was touching him, holding him down, while his hands were on him _everywhere_.    
The next moment Daryl slammed his fist back and hit Rick square in the face, the blow drawing blood from the younger man’s nose instantly and having his head collide with the tiled wall in his back painfully.    
With a pained yelp Rick let go of Daryl and pressed both hands to his face, staring bewilderedly at the blood that seeped through his fingers. The moment he released the archer, Daryl tried to crawl away from him, wimpering to the pain in his skull and the frustrating fact, that his hands and legs slipped on the wet ground and hindered a quick escape. 

        “Hold up!”

The hands were back, one clutching his ankle and trying to stop him. Daryl kicked his leg forcefully in the attempt to free himself, hitting Rick in the stomach and having him double over with a grunt. 

        “It’s me”, the younger man managed to choke out despite the pain radiating from his solar plexus. “You’re safe.”

        “Yeah, heard that before.” Daryl kicked in his direction again and resumed the attempt to crawl away from Rick. “But ya ain’t gonna do ta me, what ya pricks did to ma wife and Jenna.”

A loud gasp had Rick as well as Daryl look over to the door, where Harlan and Rose had appeared in just that moment, alarmed by the commotion inside the bathroom.    
Daryl was lying on the floor in the middle of the room, unable to get up, while fear as well as grim determination darkened his shadow blue eyes. Rick held his hand pressed against his nose, blood all over his face and dripping onto his chest, his eyes staring at his lover in plain shock.    
But it hadn’t been the scenario before her eyes, that had triggered Rose’s gasp.

        “Wife?”

Harlan brushed past her, grabbed two towels from a stool next to the door and, tossing one over to Rick, crouched next to Daryl to offer the other one to him.

        “Here.”

Daryl grabbed it and tried to back up instantly, having Harlan raise his hands in a calming gesture.

        “Relax, Daryl. You got a head injury and that obviously causes some disorientation. You’re in the Hilltop. We’re here to help you. Rick’s here.” He nodded over to Daryl’s boyfriend.

The blue eyes narrowed.

          “Ya got the wrong guy, man. Ma name ain’t Daryl – ’s Dennis. And who the hell is Rick?”              


	7. Chapter 7

Glenn, Jesus, Tara and Richard had remained outside of Daryl’s room, hoping Harlan or Rose would come out and inform them on the results of their examination. But as time passed it became obvious, that this was going to take longer and keeping them informed was apparently not the doctor’s or nurse’s priority. It was senseless to wait longer, especially since Gregory was probably close to a core meltdown by now for being kept waiting like this. 

         “We best head downstairs and fill Maggie and Gregory in on what happened up here”, Jesus said in the end.

He had deliberately chosen the order of names by importance of the people. Just as he had noticed Rick did, at least as soon as Daryl was concerned. When the archer was part of a group, Rick would mention his name first. No exceptions. Daryl was priority. Always was, always would be. And now he was back.    
Despite the rough start they had had, Jesus liked that couple. He wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t blind and before he had lifted the truck keys from Rick back then, he had secretly watched those two for quite a while, before making his move. Not merely to wait for the right moment, but because he had liked what he saw. They were both a sight for sore eyes – sore _gay_ eyes like his, that hadn’t come across such eye candy in way too long.    
Watching those two checking out that gas station had been better than watching Brokeback Mountain years back. No offense to the actors in that movie, but neither one had Daryl’s arms and bad ass looks or Rick’s bowlegs and adorable swagger. Jesus had watched with a building tension in his loins how those two were able to move in perfect sync, acted as a unit as though they were one, and when they had tried to lift that vending machine together, the muscle tension in those tanned arms visible even over the distance, Jesus had almost come in his pants right there and then.    
Bumping into Rick and reaching his hand secretly into his pants pocket a moment later, had been a sheer delight and had him grow hard instantly once more. He had been grateful for the fact that he used to wear a long, loose coat despite the temperatures in these areas during the summer, because when Daryl had pointed his gun at him, protectively stepping in front of his friend and ordering him to “Back off” with that deep, grumpy voice, Jesus’ boner would have been impossible to hide without that coat.    
He couldn’t help sighing deeply, standing in front of Daryl’s patient’s room now – _the_ room Rick and Daryl had finally come to realize that they’d been in love for the longest time. 

_          “Not that anybody with eyes hadn’t been able to  _ see _that long before that day”,_ Jesus thought secretly. 

Another chance missed. He had hoped to be able to find Daryl out there, to save him from whatever kept him from going home. Maybe that would have moved him up in the archer’s esteem a few notches. So far Daryl valued him about as much as a rutabaga.    
Maggie was right – he did have a crush on Daryl, but he knew that hoping for more than indifference was futile. The last time he had spoken to the archer, Jesus had asked him if there was anything he could do at all that would _not_ tick him off. Daryl’s answer had been as clear as day: “Yeah, jump off the tower.”   
It’s true what they say: First impressions can’t be made twice. The first thing Jesus had done when meeting the duo for the very first time, was bumping into Rick, prompting Daryl to draw his weapon on him and consider him a threat – a threat to Rick.    
That was probably a stigma he was unlikely to ever be able to shed again, no matter what he did. Nobody threatened Rick and would ever end up in Daryl Dixon’s good books. In fact, that somebody was probably lucky to still breathe at all.    
For him the ship had sailed, so indifference would be an improvement to the rutabaga status he held in Daryl’s eyes.    
Still, sometimes Jesus wondered what the heck Rick Grimes had, that he did not. People called him ‘Jesus’, for Christ’s sake, shouldn’t that say something? Jesus’ thoughts went to Rick – went _up and down_ Rick and he had to suppress a smirk suddenly.    
It was obvious what Rick had – those gorgeous, irresistable bowlegs, a cute ass, eyes like the summer sky and an enchanting smile. And, he didn’t call himself ‘Jesus’. How was anyone to compete with that? And those were just the reasons that met the eye. Daryl wasn’t the type though, who would be impressed by or care for appearances, so there had to be more, something that was far more important and lasting than looks.    
At one time, Rick must have said or done or _been_ something that Daryl needed. That maybe he had never had before, had been looking for all his life without ever so much as hoping to actually find it.    
Jesus didn’t really _know_ those two, but he had heard Maggie and Glenn talk about them – to Rose mainly, because the old lady kept asking about them. And those stories had even increased the shine she apparently took to Daryl.    
He was her Huckleberry Finn – the lonely, unkempt and maltreated boy with the golden heart, that Rose Mitchell could shower with all the motherly love she never had anyone else to give to. 

Benevolence however didn’t even come close to the kind of feelings Daryl stirred in Jesus. His problem these days was sexual frustration, simple as that, and that man…   
Dear Lord, he was growing hard these days just thinking about those arms, that voice, those cat eyes that gave the archer the most dangerous look. With Daryl in this house now, he best kept his coat on permanently.   
He wondered if Daryl lived up to the impression he gave people. Wondered if he was an animal between the sheets, the way Jesus imagined him to be. Daryl grew up in the streets and they probably played it rough there, just the way he liked it. Yes, Daryl wouldn’t be a tender, gentle and considerate lover – sex with him was probably wild and raw.   
A gasp from the long-haired man drew the attention of Glenn, Tara and Richard, and with a concerned frown they watched him sway and steady himself with one hand against the nearest wall.

         “You okay?” Tara asked, placing a hand between his shoulder blades.

He flinched and she pulled back instantly. 

         “I’m fine”, he pressed out, “just got dizzy suddenly.”

No wonder, there was practically no blood left in his brain. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to will down his erection before anyone noticed.

         “Go ahead and tame Gregory, before he’s inclined to shoot us on sight. I’ll be right there.”

         “You sure?”

         “Yes!”

It sounded agitated and with another frown, Tara, Richard and Glenn headed for the stairs. As soon as they were out of sight, Jesus rushed into the nearest room he knew was empty and had a bathroom, slammed the doors shut behind him and locked them, so he could take care of the problem in his pants. It took only few strokes before he came with Daryl’s name on his lips. 

 

When Tara, Richard and Glenn reached the landing of the staircase, they saw Maggie approach them. Her cheeks were flushed and her brow was furrowed angrily. 

         “One of these days”, she muttered to herself, “I swear, one of these days …”

         “You alright?” Glenn asked, instantly concerned, but she waved the comment off.

         “Yes, nothing wrong with _me_.”

She cast an angry scowl towards Gregory’s study and no further words were needed. Before anyone was able to speak, she picked up again:

         “What happened up there? Is everyone alright? Where’s Rick?”

A relieved sigh escaped her, when she saw a smile spread over her husband’s face. 

         “It was a walker, but it’s been taken care of”, Glenn started, bringing a surprised air to Maggie’s face. He mentioned a _walker_ in this house, in the heart of the Hilltop, as though he’d said “A chair tipped over, but we picked it up.” Before she could question his nonchalant attitude, he added: “Guess what, Mag, the survivor Richard took upstairs earlier – it’s Daryl!” 

Her eyes widened and she pressed one hand to her mouth for a moment, then she threw her arms around Glenn’s neck and hugged him tight while laughing out loud.

         “Oh, my God, that’s wonderful news for once. I’m so happy for Rick.” She released her husband and pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Is Daryl okay?” 

Glenn’s smile crumbled.

         “We don’t know yet. They kicked us out. He’s in a pretty bad condition and they wanted to do some exams now.”

Her smile vanished, too.

         “Gosh, not again. This is like a déjà-vu.”

         “True. He’s even in the same patient’s room again.”

Maggie gave an annoyed snort.

         “It’s so unfair. Why is it always Daryl? Oughta be jerks like Gregory to get a good kick in the teeth. He said some really nasty things about Daryl, and Rick, while you were upstairs.” She breathed in deep. “How’s Rick doing?”

Glenn shrugged.

         “Same as last time. Back then Daryl survived the line-up, but almost died of the shot wound. Now Rick’s got him back after three long months of fearing the worst, but again, it doesn’t look too good. What do you expect? It’s an emotional helter-skelter for Rick, but Harlan and Rose patched Daryl up last time, they gonna do it again.” 

         “It’s just a very bad moment for one of the communities to be without a leader”, Richard cut in cautiously. “Glenn filled me in on who Daryl is and what happened, but that doesn’t change the fact, that we are on the verge of war. Is Rick capable of leading or not?”

         “Excellent question”, Gregory’s voice sounded from where he had appeared in the doorway of his study. “You wanna discuss this among yourselves up there on the stairs, or do you have the decency to come back into this office? And where the heck is Jesus?” 

 

Rick felt like being caught in a bad dream. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. Did this nightmare never end?    
He wanted to say something, but words failed him. There had to be something he could do, but he was frozen to the core, unable to move at all. All he could do was stare at Daryl and fight the urge to scream.

         _“Who the hell is Rick?”_

He heard these words echo in his mind over and over and wished to God, Daryl would be the type of guy, who’d play pranks on people, so this could have been just a joke. It had to be.

Rose’s voice pulled him out of this stupor a moment later.

         “Harlan, get Rick and wait outside”, she addressed the doctor. 

         “But …” the physician tried to protest, when she turned on her heels and looked at him sternly. 

         “Damnit, Carson, use your brains. Look at him”, she hissed while nodding towards Daryl, “he has witnessed what happened to those girls and I’m not sure, those men haven’t …”    
She didn’t have to end the sentence. The way his eyes widened confirmed, that he had caught her meaning.   
“You _guys_ get out of this room now and let me handle this.”  

Rick struggled half-heartedly against Harlan’s grip, when the doctor pulled him off the wet floor and led him towards the door, but then he just wrapped the towel around his waist, cast a last devastated look in Daryl’s direction and exited the bathroom. He had heard Rose’s comment and understood why she wanted him and Harlan out of the room, although it felt as though he was deserting Daryl.    
His heart was in his mouth on imagining that Rose could be right. Did those bastards really …? Cold fury got hold of him and it felt as though icewater was rushing through his veins all of a sudden, having his humanity run cold once again. _If_ they had, it would be the last time they did anything of that kind. He would find them and he would make them pay. He had promised Negan the same – that one day, he would kill him. May just as well include a few more in that promise, it didn’t matter anymore. They all had it coming to them. 

         “Yer wrong”, Daryl said, as soon as Harlan and Rick had left, “ ‘em bastards didn’t give a damn ‘bout ma ass – they just wanted the girls. The ol’ man, Harold, he tried ta stop ‘em and the boy …” He swallowed against the lump in his throat, while he wrapped himself into the towel. “Bryan tried ta run, but he didn’t get far.

He fell quiet and stared blindly ahead of himself, pulling the towel closer around himself, while shudders ran through his body. Rose crouched down before him, although that wasn’t done easily for a chubby person her age, and cautiously reached out to him. She rubbed the soft fabric gently over his arms and shoulders in order to towel him down and have the shivers stop, but they wouldn’t. Those shivers weren’t caused from outside. They came from within.    
When she lifted a corner of the towel to dry his hair and stop it from dripping down his neck, he scooted back and swatted her hand away.

         “Paws off ma hair, lady.” 

Tears sprang in her eyes almost instantly. Those words had been the first he had said to her back then, and the last before he had left the Hilltop four months ago, with Rick, and never came back. 

         “The name is Rose”, she said bravely, introducing herself to him just like she had done back then. “You said your name is Dennis?” 

He nodded, but didn’t say another word.

         “Do you know how you got here?”

This time he shook his head, the movement instantly having his headache increase. He pressed his hands to his temples again and curse under his breath, before he croaked out:

         “Tell ya the truth. Ain’t too many things I remember at all.” He pointed to the scar on his forehead. “Dunno what happened, but that shit had me lose most a’ ma memory.”

         _“No shit”,_ she couldn’t help thinking. Then she asked cautiously: “What’s the last thing you remember before that happened?” She pointed at the scar.

         “Dunno. It’s blurry. There ain’t much a’ anything. I ’s out in the woods, dunno why. Think, I ’s up a tree or somethin’, slipped, fell … There was a rock underneath.”

         “How long ago was that?”

He shrugged.

         “Couple a’ months. Hard ta tell, if one day’s like the next and I’m havin’ trouble keepin’ new things in mind as well at times. They just disappear again, so don’t be pissed, if I don’t know yer name later.”

She gave his upper arm a gentle pat and shakily stood again. 

         “I get you some clothes”, she said softly. “Try to move as little as possible – you’ve got a head injury and need to lie down again immediately. Can I get the doctor? No one is going to harm you here, I promise.”

         “Sure.” 

Rose gave him a curt nod accompanied by a warm smile.

         “Be right back.”

She left the room, closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, pulling in a deep breath. Rick was there instantly. 

         “What? How is he? Can I see him? Why …?”  
          
         “Rick”, she stopped him by putting her index finger to his lips, “he’s got amnesia.”   
She saw incomprehension on his face, so she added: “ He’s lost his memory. Apparently several months ago, which would explain why he hasn’t tried to go home.”

Rick’s eyes widened to an unnatural size and the rising panic inside of him was almost palpable. Harlan appeared at his side and put one hand soothingly on his shoulder.

         “Don’t panic and let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t know anything yet. We don’t know how severe the injuries are and there is no telling how bad the amnesia is. The brain is a mystery and a miracle in itself and memory losses may dissolve all by themselves again. In time.”

         “How much time?” Rick croaked out. “You said, it’s been months already.”

         “Depends”, Rose said cautiously. “Sometimes it’s only hours or days, sometimes it’s months … maybe years.”

         “Or never”, Rick said toneless. “Right?” 

         “Could be”, Harlan answered honestly, “but like I said, we don’t know anything yet. Let us do some exams and think about a treatment, then … _there’s time to panic …_ we know what to expect or how to proceed.” 

         “First of all”, Rose cut in, “we need to find him some clothes and get him back into bed. He needs to lie down instantly.”

Gingerly she picked up Daryl’s old clothes and held them out to Rick.

         “Here. See that those rags get burned. There’s more holes in them than in Swiss cheese. Try to find Jesus, please, and ask him to find Daryl some new clothes quickly.” She didn’t even wait for the expected protest. “Thanks, hon. And hurry up.”

With that said, she gently but insistantly pushed Rick out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

         “You know, he’s gonna keep those _rags_ , don’t you?” Harlan asked softly. 

         “Yes, I know”, she answered just as softly. “That’s why I let him have them. He needs to have something to hold onto. Maybe that’s all, he’ll ever get back of _his_ Daryl.”

         “Rose Mitchell!” She flinched visibly, when Harlan raised his voice. Something he had never done before. “I don’t wanna hear such talk, especially not from you. If _you_ lose hope, who’s gonna kick all the rest of us into next week, if we give up too soon?”  

She looked at him stunned for a second, something he was sure he had never seen before, either. Then a wide grin spread over her rosy cheeks and she nodded her head determined. 

         “I’ll be damned, you are right. We got that boy back onto his feet the last time and we will do it again.”

         “That’s the spirit”, Harlan grinned.

The nurse walked over to the bathroom once more, to make sure their patient was going to lie down in bed right now, new clothes or not. On passing Harlan, she slapped him up the back of his head, chiding:

         “If you ever talk to me like that again, Harlan Carson, it’s gonna be _you_ cleaning every single bedpan for the next half year. Mark my words.” 

 

Reluctantly Maggie cast Richard a sideglance, still standing next to her husband on the landing, before she breathed in deep and headed back downstairs. Richard exchanged a look with Glenn, then they followed her, Tara right behind them.

         “Now, what the heck is going on in this house?” Gregory demanded to know.

         “Old Mrs. Fisher died and turned”, Glenn answered in Maggie’s stead, noticing out of the corner of his eye how her head whipped around to stare at him dismayed. 

He had mentioned a walker, fact, but he never said who it was and she hadn’t followed that train of thought. She had known Mrs. Fisher. In her younger years, the old lady had lived on a farm herself and was able to share her knowledge on gardening with Maggie, so together they had been able to improve the crop. It pained Maggie that the friendly, gentle lady was gone now, without her having a chance to say her good-byes.    
Glenn continuing his explanation had her focus on her husband once more. 

         “And the patient Richard took upstairs earlier, is Daryl.”

Gregory’s expression darkened instantly.

         “ _The_ Daryl?”

Maggie’s hands balled to fists. 

         “Rick’s _partner_ , who’s been missing for months, yes.”

She emphasized the word _partner_ in a manner, that should have warned Gregory to say anymore now, but the man had never known when to stop.

         “I sure hope, Rick’s _partner_ didn’t look like a bum again when you brought him into my house”, he addressed Richard, ignoring the multiple frowns his remark triggered. 

The Kingdom fighter waved the comment off. 

         “Hell, no”, he assured Gregory. Mentally adding: _“Worse.”_

          “I sure hope so”, the leader of the Hilltop commented gruffly, not seeing how Richard winked at Maggie. “Now, can we expect Rick to make a reappearance at this meeting nevertheless or does he need to hold hands up there? And where the hell is Jesus?” 

Glenn put a soothing hand on his wife’s arm, when he saw her features turn to stone. He knew her. She was unlikely to let much more of this pass uncommented.

         “I’m gonna go back upstairs to find Jesus and see, if Rick’s up to return to this meeting”, the young Asian suggested and Maggie added with a suspiciously friendly inflection:

         “Gregory, why don’t you go back into the study with Richard? And while Glenn’s looking for Jesus and Rick, I’m gonna fetch us some tea from the kitchen.”

Gregory didn’t even answer to that. He just turned on his heels and headed back to his _throne_ , while Richard followed him with a sigh.

         “Be right back”, Maggie said, before she turned on her heels to head to the kitchen.

On passing her, she got hold of Tara’s hand and pulled her along, while Glenn looked after them with a frown. Then he shrugged and hurried up the stairs.    
Maggie didn’t say a word. She was fuming. As soon as they reached the kitchen, she turned on the stove and put a kettle of water on top to heat water for the tea, while Tara watched her with a questioning look on her face.

         “Was there anything in particular I …”

         “Just stay.” At first Maggie didn’t say anymore, then she added: “I should have asked Glenn to join us, too. Gregory can wait. Rick needs that time with Daryl.”

And in right that moment she needed Tara there with her, too. To calm her and to make sure she wasn’t going to poison Gregory’s tea. Maybe it was her hormons acting up, but just recently she had repeatedly had fantasies of how she was going to kill Gregory one of these days and that man was definitely asking for it, too.    
A few minutes later she put tea bags in four mugs and poured hot water over them. Gently she pushed one of the mugs over the counter into Tara’s direction, then she placed the other three on a tray to take up to the study for Richard, herself and Gregory while they waited for the others.    
Suddenly a vicious sparkle came to her eyes and she cast Tara a smirk. The next moment she hawked a loogie straight into one of the mugs and commented dryly:

         “Gregory’s tea is done, I think.”

Something sparked up in the other woman’s eyes.

         “Not quite. It needs a little more flavor.”

That said she spit into the tea herself and then stirred the disgusting brew calmly with a spoon.

         “ _Now_ it’s just right. With best regards from Daryl.”

Whistling to herself, Maggie picked up the tray and disappeared through the door with visible delight, while Tara’s laughter accompanied her all the way back to the study. 

 

After Rose had closed the door behind him, Rick stood motionless in front of Daryl’s room, pressing the bundle of clothes tightly to his chest.    
_ Burn those rags.  _ His heart constricted painfully. She was right, these clothes had seen better days a felt hundred years ago, and they did even look as though they’d been worn that long – but there was no way he would burn them.    
This was the very same shirt Jesus had given to Daryl last time they’d been here. Rick still remembered how the archer had ripped off the sleeves the day they had returned to Alexandria, gruffly muttering that only pussies needed sleeves on their shirts, casting Rick a teasing smile the next moment. 

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Rick’s mouth on remembering that day. He had woken to Daryl running his fingers tenderly through his curls that morning, while he was planting small kisses on his neck and along his jawline to gently wake him. Tender. Gentle. That’s the kind of lover Daryl was, although he didn’t look it.    
The gruff, grumpy, bad-ass exterior was a shield to protect a sensitive and vulnerable soul – one Daryl had never been afraid or ashamed to reveal to Rick. Around the leader Daryl had always been able to show his true colors and he had come to realize early on that Rick loved him _because_ of them, not despite. 

The black denims – he couldn’t even remember where and when Daryl had gotten those, but they were his favorites despite the holes in the legs and the patch on one knee. Nobody paid attention to those things anymore these days. They all weren’t exactly dressed to kill. Then  
again … The pun had Rick’s smile widen for a moment, before a closer look at the clothes in his arms had it disappear again.  
The vest! Daryl’s angel wing vest! The one piece of clothing Daryl would never part with, because it really meant a lot to him. It was gone.    
The archer had always treasured it as though those wings _meant_ something. As though they were for protection, a good luck charm, however ironic that may have been, and maybe as a symbol to others as well. It had worked for Rick. Seeing those wings had always had a soothing effect on him – there was nothing to fear, as long as his angel was near.    
Now Daryl’s wings were broken, were lost, and Rick couldn’t help the cold feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. This was a bad omen. It may just have been a piece of clothing, just a vest, but it _did_ have a meaning. It was another piece of Daryl that  was gone. 

Before he could follow that depressing train of thought further, a door down the corridor opened and Jesus emerged from one of the rooms.  
He looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed and the clothes disheveled. When he noticed Rick standing few feet away from him, the red hue of his cheeks deepened. Before he had a chance to say anything, Rick approached him. If he had noticed anything odd about Jesus’ appearance, he didn’t say, which had the younger man give a relieved sigh. It would have been kind of difficult to explain the situation, if Rick had asked. He couldn’t very well tell him that these days he got a boner each time he thought about Rick’s man.

         “Rose says to ask you for new clothes for Daryl”, Rick said tonelessly, sounding tired and defeated. 

The way he was clutching the bundle of old clothes and the look in his eyes said it all and left Jesus with a guilty conscience. _Slightly_ guilty conscience. After all, it wasn’t his fault that Rick was dating the sexiest guy in this walker infested world, and he was a lonesome guy. But fact of the matter was, Daryl was taken. And the way Jesus was thinking about him, was highly inappropriate. 

         _“Inappropriate my ass”,_ Jesus dismissed that train of thought and gave a curt nod to Rick’s request. “Sure, I’ll see, what I can do.” 

They took a few steps towards the stairs, side by side, when a soft female voice from a room behind them had them turn around. 

         “Hello? Is anybody there?”

It came from the patient’s room next to Daryl’s. Jesus shrugged.

         “Must be one of the girls Richard’s group saved.”

         “We best go get Harlan or Rose”, Rick replied, but before either man even took a step back to where they’d come from, Harlan emerged from Daryl’s room and disappeared into the adjoining one to check on the woman. 

Jesus nudged Rick’s shoulder.

         “I think, I know, where to get some clothes for Daryl. You coming?”

Rick nodded and was just about to turn, when Harlan hurried back out of the room. He noticed the two men down the corridor and looked at Rick with wide eyes, which set alarm bells off in the back of Rick’s mind instantly. Jesus and the search for clothes were instantly forgotten as he approached the doctor with large strides. 

         “The lady in there”, Harlan started cautiously, while he put a soothing hand on Rick’s arm, “she’s asking about her _husband Dennis_.” 

He had just finished his sentence, when Rose appeared in the doorway of Daryl’s room, her keen ears having heard each word through the ajar door. She hadn’t forgotten about Daryl’s earlier comment about a _wife_ , but after witnessing his state of mind, she had dismissed it as disorientation, a fantasy, a _mistake. Now_ they weren’t able to just dismiss _this_ any longer.    
Before they could stop him, Rick had pushed the door to the woman’s room open and had marched in there to meet _the wife._ The moment Rose, Harlan and Jesus almost collided in the doorway in the attempt to follow him, they heard his bewildered gasp: “Carol!” 


	8. Chapter 8

The moment she saw him, all color seemed to simply drop off her face. He was the last person she had expected to meet here. As a matter of fact, he was the last person she had planned to _ever_ meet again. Rick Grimes. 

Her feelings for him were conflicting. Always had been. He had appeared out of nowhere back then, at the quarry outside of Atlanta where a small group of survivors had set up camp. It was the apocalypse, yes, but still things had been somewhat quiet, smooth and steady, despite the Dixon brothers, who just wouldn’t fit in. Didn’t _want_ to fit in. But Shane had had things going well and under control. And then, from one moment to the other, everything had been upside down.    
Rick had broken into the structure of their group like a sledge hammer, drove a wedge between people, reclaimed his family, pushed Shane off balance and took over without anyone ever electing him leader. All of a sudden he just _was._ He made decisions for all of them, he gave commands and he never grew tired of repeating that it was _his call_. All of it. At any time. What gave him that right and who gave him that much power to play God and stir everybody’s fate?    
Carol had been under the dominion of men all of her life. First her overbearing, cold father’s, then her abusive husband’s and now Rick Grimes’, the ringleader, the dictator. She feared him more than she trusted him. He was too self-confident and arrogant, doubting his actions and decisions only when things went south, when it was too late.    
Daryl was so different. In the beginning he had been a hothead, following his brother’s lead, which was pretty much being _against_ things, always, no matter what. Why they stayed at the camp had been beyond her at the time. Together they were a team and they were good on their own with their remarkable survival skills. If anyone could have made it on their own, without _anyone_ , it would have been Merle and Daryl Dixon. The moment Merle hadn’t been around anymore, Daryl changed. Adjusted. Tried. Tried to become part of the group. Wanted to do his share. And he showed his true colors – his sensitive and caring side, that he probably had to hide all of his life in his redneck family.   
Carol had lost her husband in that camp, but she couldn’t have cared less. Then she had lost her daughter and a part of herself had died back then. Rick’s fault. It had all been Rick’s fault. If it hadn’t been for him, Sophia would still be alive today. He left her innocent little daughter in the woods all by herself and she never came back.    
Daryl had been an immense support – before and after. He had been the one who had tried to find Sophia like no one else. For Carol. Because he cared, because he liked her. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Maybe though he did it primarily to show that he was _worth_ being part of that group, that he was _someone_ , that he wanted to do his share. She had realized much later why that had been so important to him – to get Rick’s attention and earn his appreciation and trust.    
Daryl had told her secretly, long after those days, that Rick offering to help him get Merle back from that rooftop had changed everything. Rick couldn’t have cared less about the older Dixon and wouldn’t have risked his or anybody else’s life for him, but Merle was Daryl’s brother and _Daryl_ had meant something. They had had a very rough start and Daryl hadn’t had too many chances to show that he could be something else than a redneck jackass, but Rick must have sensed _more_ in him than just that. No one had ever offered to do _anything_ for Daryl. No one had ever cared about what was important to him, what he wanted, what he felt, what he thought, yet Rick had done all that in one single day.    
Back in Atlanta, on that rescue mission for Merle, Daryl Dixon had fallen deeply in love with Rick, whether he had realised it at the time, she wouldn’t know.   
_ She  _ had deluded herself for the longest time, that much she knew. Had made countless passes on Daryl, always hoping to win his heart, telling herself that he was just shy, but that one day there would be more than just friendship between them. It  had been a lost cause and that had been obvious. Wherever Rick went, Daryl followed. Whatever Rick decided upon, Daryl would back it up. He would speak his mind if he didn’t agree, but in the end it was Rick’s call, always. Daryl risked his own life to save Rick. And no matter what the leader did – if it was killing his former best friend or keeping secrets from them – Daryl would find excuses for it and _still_ loyally stand by him. Through good times and bad … Unconditionally. Apparently _bad_ times didn’t even exist for Daryl as long as Rick was with him.    
It had started with mistrust and an uneasy feeling. Carol wouldn’t even say, she had _disliked_ Rick, but those were the feelings he had instilled in her in the beginning. The day she had started to realize that, no matter how hard she tried to win Daryl over, he would _still_ favor Rick in every respect, jealousy had been added to those feelings.    
Then, although she had tried to do what was best for the group when she had killed Karen and David at the prison, he had sent her away; away from _Daryl_ , away from everything she had. And he had decided that entirely on his own. Now he obviously even had the right of ban. There were no limits as far as Rick Grimes’ omnipotence was concerned. Rules didn’t apply to him. Right and wrong were ethical aspects for others, not for him. He was God. And he had Daryl to worship him.    
That day, when he had taken everything away from her, the uneasiness and mistrust had turned into dislike. Did she hate him? Maybe.   
When Carol had left Alexandria, she had left _him_ first of all. His authority and his power to order all of them around. He decided that they would go against the Saviors, that they would kill. Again. He and the arrogance to believe that he was invincable had led to yet another war. Allegedly this was for their safety, for their own good, so he had risked a dozen lives to attack that Savior compound without thinking twice. Daryl could have died that day, because someone had dared screw with Rick Grimes and his ego.    
Democracy was a farce as long as Rick was in charge. He asked people for their opinion, but he didn’t accept their answer. In the end, it was done as _he_ wanted it to. And his attitude got worse as time passed. For a while he had at least trusted Daryl’s judgement – these days, he didn’t even listen to him any longer. This was bound to end in a catastrophe and she hadn’t had any desire to stick around and wait till the curtain fell.    
She was better off without him. Daryl was better off without him. If things had gone as planned, they would be long gone from this part of the world – far away from Alexandria, far away from the Hilltop, the Saviors, another war and most of all Rick Grimes. But Fate was a bitch and things had not gone as planned.   
Here they were. In the Hilltop. On the verge of war. And now of all times _he_ had to be here, too. But things had changed. He didn’t have dominion over her anymore. She was her own master now, free to make her own decisions and for once it was her, who would hold on to something that was all hers now and she wouldn’t let anyone take it away from her ever again. And that _something_ was Daryl.

       “Rick.” 

Her infection was toneless, every emotion carefully hidden. There was no way of telling, if it was a friendly greeting, a surprised remark or an annoyed notice. It could have been everything. 

Rick’s confusion was palpable. How did she get here? Where had she been? What happened? There were so many questions on his mind all of a sudden. He and Morgan had been looking for her after she had left Alexandria secretly one night, but they never found a trace. She had just disappeared. And since she had left on her own accord back then, it was commonly assumed that she didn’t mean to be found. So they had quit searching. 

       “Where have you been?” Rick asked in the end, after a moment of collecting his thoughts. 

       “Out there”, she made a general gesture towards the window, her words clearly defensive, as though she considered this none of his business. 

       “We’ve been looking for you”, Rick added, still somewhat stunned about her surprising reappearance.

       “There was no need for that. I’m sure, Tobin showed you the letter I wrote. I wouldn’t have gone back to Alexandria, even if you had found me.”

       “Why? I mean, we all …”

       “I tell you _why_.” Her voice picked up in volume. “Because enough is enough, Rick. Because your way of leading that group, that town and each decision you made, led to a disaster. I was tired of having to fight and kill and watch people I care for die, because you constantly need a boost to your ego.”

The cat was out of the bag. This was personal. She had left, because she didn’t want to fight and kill anymore, so her letter had read, but she hadn’t said that she saw the cause for all the fighting and killing lie with Rick and _his ego._  
The man’s features became a stony façade.  
        
       “You think, it’s my fault? All the places, all the _people_ we lost? All …”

       “Yes”, she hissed, “I know it is. Because you totally overestimate yourself, your abilities to lead, to judge, to make the right decisions. You keep challenging the wrong people, instead of just laying low for a change, and it’s by the blood of our people that you are still around, still make decisions about all of their fates. But not mine any longer. Or Daryl’s. We won’t risk out lives for you and your arrogance anymore. From now on, fight your own battles, Rick Grimes.”

At the mention of Daryl, Rick’s eyes had turned to glacier ice and reminded him in an instance, just why he had come into this room in the first place. 

       “Daryl”, he pressed out with a scowl. “Would that be your _husband Dennis_?”

She lifted her chin defiantly, a provoking sparkle in her eyes, but didn’t reply. 

          “What have you done, Carol?” Rick suddenly yelled at her, barely able to refrain from grabbing and shaking her.

       “I  _ saved him _ from you!” she spat. “He almost died for you often enough, risked his life to save your conceited ass, but not anymore. I gave him a chance to  _ live.  _ You just would have gotten him killed, sooner or later.”

Rick gasped and stared at her speechlessly.   
He didn’t notice Glenn appear in the doorway and stare at Carol with wide eyes, before exchanging a look with Jesus on witnissing her exchange with Rick. He didn’t hear Rose call for Harlan and order him to go back to Daryl and take care of him, so she could put an end to the clamor on _her_ floor.  
Carol’s words were echoing in Rick’s ears almost painfully:   
          _“I_ saved him _from you. You just would have gotten him killed.”_

Before he could reply, Rose pushed Glenn and Jesus out of her way and brushed into the room through the gap she had just cleared.

       “Break!” She stepped in between the two opponents and turned to Rick with a stern air. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not the time for this, so go back into your corner. Now.”

       “But …” Rick tried to protest, which had Rose roll her eyes.

       “How did I know you were gonna say that?” she cut in immediately. “Surprise me, all of you, and just do as I say without any ‘but’s. I can take the shock.” 

Before she even ended her sentence, she had cast a warning glance in Jesus’ direction and saw the need for it clearly given when he closed his mouth quickly, wisely refraining from talking back to her right now.  

       “Daryl doesn’t need another war”, Rose whispered to Rick and had him sober up instantly. “And in case you forgot”, she added, “both of the ladies in my care have gone through hell just recently, so whatever this one here did, give her a break nevertheless.” 

Pulling in a deep breath, he nodded wordlessly and then turned to head to the door. His emotions and his throughts were in a turmoil and he had questions, lots of them. He hadn’t gotten any answers yet, but he would. This wasn’t over. This was not anywhere near being over.  
At the door he turned around to Carol one more time.

       “He’s not yours. He never was.”

That said, he squeezed past Glenn and Jesus back into the corridor and headed towards the balcony in the need for fresh air. Behind him Carol’s voice sounded, accompanied by a gloating laugh:  
        
       “He is now!”

 

Out on the balcony, Rick clutched the bundle of clothes even tighter and breathed in deep several times. It was cool out here and the moist autumn breeze had him shiver, but the air was clear and helped him breathe freely and hopefully unscramble his chaotic thoughts.     
This couldn’t be happening. After all this time, Carol should have gotten the message. Daryl had turned her down often enough and in the end, she had found someone else and was content with having no more than a close friendship with the archer. At least it had appeared as though she had given up on her hopes for more, but that obviously was a misjudgement. She was smart and she fooled them all. Maybe she had even deluded herself for a while and had settled for second best, but first chance she got, she claimed what she had always wanted. 

       Down the corridor behind Rick’s back, Jesus stood deep in thought, secretly gritting his teeth.    
Whoever that woman was, she was one foxy lady. Despite what had happened to her recently, Jesus couldn’t help but envy her deeply. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had witnessed just now, but the exchange had provided enough information to put one and one together.    
Something had happened to Daryl out there, that much wasn’t hard to figure out. One look at the current condition of the archer was quite sufficient. And whatever that  _ something  _ was, it had obviously led to Daryl thinking this Carol person was his wife and his name was Dennis.    
Jesus flashed Rick’s back a stunned glance, when it dawned on him.    
Daryl had lost his memory! He didn’t remember his name. Maybe he didn’t remember much of anything. Did he not even remember Rick? If so, that woman obviously took advantage of the situation and got herself a husband.   
Jesus eyes widened. Darn. That would have been his chance. If he had found Daryl before her, he could have …

       _“Paul Rovia!”_ he chided himself secretly _, “first you are jerking off to the thought of someone else’s man and now you’re even considering using this tragic situation in your favor to steal that guy. And you call yourself Jesus? Man, you so gonna burn in hell for this.”_

He cast a quick glance to the door of Carol’s room and pulled a face. If _he_ was going to burn in hell, he wouldn’t be alone. _She_ just bought herself a ticket downstairs for sure.  
        
Rick was totally oblivious to everything around him, including Jesus and Glenn, who still stood in the corridor behind him. He still heard Carol’s words echo in his mind:

          _“I gave him a chance to_ live. _You just would have gotten him killed.”_

There was no denying the fact, that it had been too close a call many times ever since Rick was at the helm of their group. Daryl was shot twice, pierced by his own bolt, stabbed in the back and now … Was all this on him? Maybe. If he hadn’t made the fatal decision to leave Sophia in those woods all by herself back then, the search that had almost cost Daryl his life, wouldn’t have been necessary. Everything that had happened afterwards, happened because Rick never avoided a confrontation.  
He had challenged the Governor, just like he had challenged the Claimers, the people at Terminus and now the Saviors – and whatever war Rick Grimes had started, Daryl got caught right in the middle. Yes, it probably was on him. Carol was right. Sooner or later he would get Daryl killed. Maybe the archer was better off living as Dennis, somewhere else, with Carol. Away from these communities, that were on the verge of yet another war, away from the Saviors, away from Rick.

 

Rose closed the door of the patient’s room gently behind her and wordlessly looked at the woman in her care.    
It was difficult to tell her age. Her eyes were vivid and save for few wrinkles around them, her skin still bore little signs of age. Her hair however was gray, which probably made her look older than she was. She had probably been a pretty woman when she was young. In a way, she still was, but something marred her beauty considerably in Rose’s eyes – probably the darkness within.    
Secretly reminding herself, that  _ all  _ of her patients needed her and deserved the best of care, no matter what, the elderly nurse took a step closer to the bed.

       “You look better”, she said softly. “Would you like something to eat?” 

Carol cast her a glance and then just nodded wordlessly. 

       “I’ll fetch you something from the kitchen”, Rose offered. “Some tea, too?”

Again Carol just nodded, not even looking at her anymore. For a moment Rose hesitated, then she added cautiously: 

       “Would you like to talk about what happened?”

Anger flared up in the other woman’s blue eyes and she cast Rose a scowl.

       “No. This is between Rick and me. It’s nobody’s business.”

       “Actually I meant … “, Rose started, but then stopped. 

Obviously the rape faded in significance next to whatever  _ it _ was, that was between her and Rick.    
_ “Daryl”,  _ Rose thought with a sigh.   
Daryl was the connection and the gulf between them all in one.  

       “I wanna see my husband”, Carol’s voice tore Rose from her thoughts and the nurse couldn’t help squinting her eyes.

       “We both know, he’s not your husband. And his name is not Dennis, either”, she said softly, ignoring the scowl that hit her once more.

       “Rick tell you that?” Carol asked angrily. 

With another sigh, Rose pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.

       “No. Daryl was my patient four months ago. Don’t you know he got shot by one of Negan’s men?   
        
Carol grew pale and shook her head, before she said:

       “I was wondering about that scar on his shoulder, but … No, I had no idea. I left Alexandria before that happened. But I was right then – Rick would have gotten him killed one of these days.”

Rose’s features darkened visibly.

       “ _ Rick  _ didn’t shoot him.” Her inflection was harsher than she had intented, so she added softer: “In fact, he saved Daryl’s life back then.”  _ In more than one respect. _

Carol crossed her arms before her chest and narrowed her eyes.

       “That doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you understand? Daryl …  _ Dennis _ doesn’t remember him. He doesn’t remember  _ anything.  _ I found him in the woods  He must have been wandering about for weeks, not knowing who he was, where he came from and where to turn. He barely remembered his tracking and hunting skills and was half starved by then. He trusted me. Maybe even remembered me … somehow. I  _ saved _ him.”

          “So you told him his name was Dennis?”

       “No, that was his idea.” Carol averted her eyes and stared out of the window. “He had a friend back in Alexandria. A woman named Denise. She meant a lot to him, for whatever reason, but she was killed. I didn’t really know her, but Daryl mentioned that she had a twin brother, whose name was Dennis. Her most precious belonging was a name tag that read  _ Dennis _ and after her death, it became Daryl’s most precious belonging. He had it in his pocket and figured it was his, his name … “

       “And you never cleared that up. Even led him to believe you were his wife.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. 

          “What’s it to you?” Carol spat. “We were both alone out there. He was completely lost, so I showed him a way out. And I … I loved him long before Rick Grimes even gave a damn about him. And just because he needs his henchman back to do the dirty work for him, doesn’t mean he’s got the right to reclaim him. I won’t let him. You tell him that.”

Rose looked at her with wide eyes and then, all of a sudden, it fell into place. Carol left Alexandria before Daryl was shot, before the incident with Negan, before … She didn’t know.  _ She did not know.  _  
Slowly the nurse stood and breathed in deep. 

       “This is not about Rick wanting his  _ henchman _ back”, she said cautiously. “He wants his lover back, dear. Rick and Daryl – they are a couple.”

There was no easy way to say this and Carol had to know.    
The younger woman’s head whipped around and she stared at Rose, white as a sheet, but with a furious glow in her eyes.    
All this time she had had a hunch that Daryl felt  _ this _ way for Rick, that his orientation and his emotions for the other man were the reason that all of her attempts to win over his heart had been futile. But she had tried nevertheless, because Rick was most obviously straight. He had been married to Lori when he had joined their group. He had started a fling with Jessie, before he’d been with Michonne. There just was no way … Fury started to boil deep inside of Carol. No! He wasn’t going to take  _ that  _ away from her, too.    
Because of his selfish decisions and careless actions her family was dead, and his way to cause one landslide after the other had driven her out of her home. And after all that, he was topping things off now by claiming the only man she’d ever loved?    
Rick Grimes was the devil. He had to be. He destroyed everything she cared for and took away everything she loved. And in right that moment, she started to hate him with a vengeance. 

       “ _ Daryl _ doesn’t exist anymore”, Carol hissed in the nurse’s direction. “He is Dennis now and he couldn’t care less about Rick Grimes. You telling him differently, is just gonna pull the rug out from under his feet and destroy him. I am the only person he’s got and I want to be moved over to his room immediately. I got the right. He is  _ my  _ husband. Tell Rick that.” 

She turned her back to Rose and fell quiet. The conversation was most obviously over.

 

Glenn and Jesus still stood motionless next to each other in front of Carol’s room, undecided what to do next.   
They had watched Rick hurry towards the balcony and the way he was standing out there now totally motionless, staring into the distance, didn’t appear as though he cared for company. Not  _ theirs _ anyway. Rose was still with Carol and Harlan was taking care of Daryl – their presence wasn’t required up here in the least.   
Jesus nudged Glenn’s shoulder and nodded towards the stairs.

       “Rose asked me to get Daryl some new clothes and I still gotta go back to that meeting. Gimme a hand with those clothes, will ya? The longer I keep Gregory waiting, the …

Approaching footsteps drew the attention of both men to the stairs, where a second later Maggie and Tara appeared. 

       “Did Gregory send you to hunt me down?” Jesus asked with an eye-roll, surprised when he saw a grin spread over the pretty faces of both women.

       “Nope”, Maggie replied, “the meeting was postponed till tomorrow morning.”

       “The tea didn’t agree with Gregory”, Tara tossed in and started to giggle, Maggie falling in a second later.

Glenn raised an eyebrow.

       “What did you do?” 

       “Us?” Tara and Maggie said innocently in sync, which had a grin spread over Jesus’ face as well.

He pointed at Maggie and said:

       “I love it when she does that.”

       “When I do what?” Maggie asked, an eyebrow lifted as well.  
        
       “That”, Jesus smirked. “Playing innocent, while you’re obviously up to something.”

       “Don’t know, what you’re talking about.”

The long-haired man started laughing.

       “Like I said – love it, when you do that.”

Glenn sighed.

       “You wouldn’t say that, if you were married to her. – Where’s Richard?” he changed the subject quickly.

       “Went to check on his men and the horses – not necessarily in that order”, Tara answered, before her eyes came to rest on Rick, who still stood in the very same spot as before.

       “What’s with Rick?” she asked with furrowed brows. “Is he okay? Is Daryl okay?”  
Her inflection was clearly peppered with concern now.

Glenn and Jesus exchanged a look, then Glenn said:

       “Let’s go down to the kitchen. And I hope, we’ll find some stronger stuff down there than just tea”, he added with yet another sigh. “We gotta talk.”

 

After Harlan had concluded his exams and had used up all his patience and coaxing abilities to get Daryl to spill some information, he spread a second blanket over his patient to keep him warm and then stretched the aching muscles in his neck and shoulders.   
Heaven only knew, where Jesus was trying to find some clothes for this man, so the doctor had opted for wrapping him into an large fluffy towel from the bathroom, before tucking him in. A procedure, Daryl had allowed without fighting him or so much as dropping a grumpy remark. If Harlan hadn’t seen the tattoos and the scars that identified this man as Daryl Dixon, he may have had his doubts that he was. The archer’s demeanor had completely changed.   
His speech pattern was the same, but the gruffness had been replaced by a much softer, almost insecure inflection. The fire in his eyes was gone and had made room for a timid, frightened look, and his strong and determined attitude now was a rather submissive one. None of this was too surprising.   
How was anyone supposed to be determined about anything, if they did not remember who they were, where they belonged, what their goals and plans in life used to be, who their friends or enemies were? How could someone, who didn’t even remember their name, have the strength to speak for themself? Daryl didn’t have a past, was lost in the present and his entire future was a mystery. He was floating in a vacuum and there was nothing to hold on to, no reference point for orientation, no experiences to help make decisions and judgements. The entire world was terra incognita to him, everybody – including himself – a stranger.

 

Maggie and Tara just gaped at Glenn after the young Asian had ended his monolog.   
As soon as they had reached the kitchen, he had rummaged the cabinets until he had found a bottle of rum, apparently meant for baking, and had repurposed it immediately. After taking a large swig, he had started filling the women in on all the latest news.  
He had told them about Daryl apparently having lost his memory and not remembering who he was or recognizing anyone. About Carol being one of the survivors Richard’s group had brought in. And about how she had used Daryl’s condition to her advantage and had him think he was her husband, Dennis. There was no need to say anything about Rick. They had seen him and one didn’t have to be a genius to know how he felt right now.   
The moment Glenn had concluded his report, Maggie had pointed at the bottle in her husband’s hand. 

       “Hand me that over”, she had said, while she had picked up one of the glasses that sat on the table.

Three pairs of eyes had widened and stared at her, before Glenn had shook his head.

       “No.” He pointed at her baby bump. “No way.”

She got up, grapped the bottle wordlessly and filled half of the glass. Then she lifted it slowly, sniffed on it with visible delight, before shoving it over the table top in Tara’s direction. 

       “Here”, she said sternly, “be a friend and drink that for me. It’ll make me feel better.”

Tara started giggling and complied. 

       “My pleasure.”

Glenn cast a glance in Jesus’ direction and saw the long-haired man shrug in a  _ “I don’t know what the heck that was”  _ way. 

       “Don’t look at me. She’s  _ your  _ wife”, he commented dryly. 

       “Hormons”, Maggie tossed in with a shrug. “I’m pregnant and whatever I do or say is to be excused for the time being. Unspoken rule.”

       “Yup”, Tara added with a nod, “it should have some benefits to have that little creature make you nauseous, kick you in the guts, sit on our bladder, have your legs swell, squeeze your organs into the unlikely places and to pretty much look like a stranded whale for nine months straight.”

She grinned when she saw the men cringe, although she hadn’t even mentioned the really _good_ parts. Maggie was grateful for that. She hadn’t even told Glenn, but having to give birth to this baby soon, scared her to no end.   
          _“That’s normal”,_ Rose had told her, when she had secretly voiced her concernes to the motherly nurse.  
But Rose never had to administer a c-section to a non-sedated woman, in a dirty room of a former prison, while walkers were right in front of the door and the mother’s young son had to watch the entire procedure. Watch his mom bleed to death, before he had to put her down, too.   
Lori’s death still haunted Maggie to this very day and often enough she wondered, how Carl had ever been able to cope with it.

Jesus’ voice derailed her train of thought and pulled her back to the here and now. 

       “Our problems are increasing”, he just said. “I hate to say this, but Richard and Gregory are right to doubt Rick’s ability to lead Alexandria into a war. First Daryl was missing and now …  _ this. _ ”

       “He’s able to handle both”, Tara said determinedly, but that determination failed to reach her eyes. 

She had seen Rick in Alexandria these past months. Had seen him fall apart, unable to do much of anything some days save for brooding, worrying, despairing. But Alexandria had survived these times, too. Rick wasn’t alone. The entire town was well organized by now and the council kept things going, even if their leader had to  _ sort things out _ again. They were a good team. It would work.   
And that’s what she told Jesus. And Glenn and Maggie.   
It was the wrong time to doubt. Rick needed their support now. They had to work together, encourage him instead of loading more worries onto his shoulders and she’d be damned, if she allowed anyone to stab him in the back. This wasn’t what they did. 

When her eyes wandered over the assembled people, she still saw doubt though and anger flared up inside of her.

       “Come on, you guys. I  _ know _ he doesn’t look like much of a leader at the moment and his personal problems weigh heavy on him, but we don’t have a choice here really.  _ If  _ we concidered him incapable of leading, what would be the alternative? Anyone want that job? I sure as hell don’t.”

She watched the other three exchange looks, but no one spoke, so she continued:

       “That’s what I thought. We’ve got the council. They’ve been backing Rick up for quite a while and the system works well. Daryl is here. He’s alive. There is  _ hope  _ now. So we just need to convince Rick of that and give him a shove into the right direction and he will come through. You know him! He’s never let us down.”

       “She’s right”, Maggie said matter-of-factly. “If there has ever been a worse time to doubt Rick’s leadership, it’s now. And I’m not gonna be the one to tell him, that after all he’s done, we don’t want him anymore. No way.”

She got up.

       “He needs our help and we’re gonna give him that help. We need to convince both Richard and Gregory, that Rick is still our man and then concentrate on the real problem here – and that’s the Saviors.”

Jesus looked at her with wide eyes, a smirk on his face.

       “Amen. Is that your hormons, too, or have you always been that way?”

She cast him a suspicous glance.

       “ _ What _ way?”

       “Strong, convincing – like a leader.” The smirk was replaced by an appreciative nod. “The Hilltop would be better off with you at the helm, instead of Gregory.”

Maggie and Glenn looked at him surprised, while a grin spread over Tara’s face.

       “Oh, this sounds like revolution. If you want me to prepare Gregory some more tea, just say the word …” Tara addressed Maggie.

The young mother-to-be suppressed a smile.

       “Have another drink, Tara”, she said, her inflection mildly chiding. 

But in the back of her mind the little wheels had started to turn.     


	9. Chapter 9

Suppressing a sigh, Harlan stepped out onto the balcony and stood silently next to Rick. For a moment it was quiet between them, then the physician said softly:

      “This used to be a place I love to go to, if I needed a quiet place to think or catch a breather. Told you that before. But just recently I’ve come to dread it. We never seem to have pleasant things to talk about out here.”

Rick continued staring into the distance.

      “It’s not the place. Just the fact that there  _ are _ no pleasant things to talk about anymore.”

      “There will be.”

      “Sorry, but I don’t share your optimism, doc.” 

He turned around to Harlan and the doctor wasn’t even surprised to see him still clutching that bundle of old clothes, like it was his most precious belonging now.   
Rick raised his eyebrows questioningly, wordlessly prompting the other man to tell him already what he came out here to say.

      “Daryl …” Harlan started, then cleared his throat and started over. “Like I said, Daryl’s got amnesia. He says he remembers having been in the woods and falling off a tree or something, but he wouldn’t know why …”

      “Hunting”, Rick said barely audible. “He always loved going on hunting trips and when he stayed out overnight, he slept up a tree for safety reasons.” He gritted his teeth. “I shoulda gone with him. Shouldn’t have let him go by himself.” 

      “Shoulda, coulda, woulda. You know, this is senseless, Rick. Fact is, that accident had him lose his memory. That’s the status quo. Now there are different kinds of amnesia and the one he seems to suffer is called retrograde amnesia. It affects events that occurred before the accident or illness that caused it, without any affect on memory-access to recent events. He is able to memorize things that occurred  _ after _ his memory loss, but the time before that is blank. Usually the memory comes back all by itself, in time. Maybe not all of it and it might be just a piece of something here, and a fracture there, but given time and support, he may get his memory back.”

Rick cast him a doubtful look.

      “But it’s been months already, Harlan. And he doesn’t remember a thing.”

      “He hasn’t been exposed to anything or anyone save for his  _ wife _ , that could have triggered any memories. It would be helpful to be around familiar people and in places he’s known. Fact is, that it’s not necessarily images that trigger memories the most, but sounds and scents. So if you know of a certain smell he liked or music he favored for instance, that may help.”

The doubtful look in Rick’s eyes turned into a frustrated one.

      “Familiar people? It’s not gonna get any more familiar than me, Harlan. I mean, he’s in there – in  _ our  _ room. And I’m here. And Maggie, Glenn, Tara …Yet he doesn’t remember anyone or anything.”

      “Patience, Rick. Give it time. It’ll come back.”

      “We don’t  _ have  _ that time, Harlan.” 

The doctor put a soothing hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

      “From what I hear, you are still at the planning stage as far as the war is concerned and …”

Rick shrugged the hand off and his eyes grew cold.

      “The Saviors are my least concern at this point.” He glared into the house. “Carol. She never stopped getting her hopes up to win Daryl over, despite all the times he turned her down.” He shrugged. “She loves him. Always wanted him. And she’s not gonna wait till he remembers  _ anything _ . She’ll make sure to leave here as soon as they are able to, to head as far away from the Hilltop and Alexandria as possible, so there won’t be any familiar faces or places to trigger memories. She’s not dumb, Harlan, and I’m sure she figured things out without being a physician. So he needs to remember soon, or it’ll be too late.”

Harlan shook his head with a grave air on his face.

      “There is no pushing these things, Rick. You can’t march in there now and just  _ tell  _ him who he is, who you are – everything.” He breathed in deep. “Let me explain this to you. When Carol found Daryl, his mind was like an empty piece of paper. Totally blank. And she wrote her own personal story on it. She created  _ false memories.  _ There have been tests in the past, and it is in fact possible to have people  _ remember  _ things that never happened. If I was to tell you a story now, your imagination would picture the whole scenario. If I was convincing enough and  repeated that story over and over, telling you this occurance has in fact taken place, your mind will even add its own little details after a while. And a mere story will turn into a memory.   
Daryl believes his name is Dennis and Carol is his wife. That’s his reality, the only  _ facts  _ he’s got to hold onto at all. She is his anchor at this point. If you tell him now, that it’s all just been a lie and things are completely different, you’re gonna destroy the little  _ reality _ he’s got left. That would leave him with nothing but chaos and confusion. He may go insane over this – even suicidal.”

He saw the shock on Rick’s face and added softly:

      “I know, how hard this must be. But you cannot tell him. He’s got to come to it on his own.”

      “But Carol …”

      “Rick, if they want to leave, I cannot stop them. And if Daryl hasn’t remembered by then … For his own sake, you’ll have to let him go.”

Rick stared at him frozen to the core, not saying a word and barely daring to even breathe. But Harlan could see in his eyes that he was screaming inside.

      “I’m gonna lose him again”, was all he croaked out after a long, silent moment.

      “We’ll see about that”, Harlan replied calmly. “Daryl is in no condition to leave within the next days and neither are the women. Especially the younger one. So …” 

      “Harlan”, Rick cut in suddenly, visibly paler than before. “Was he …? Did they…? Those men …”

      “No.” The doctor put a soothing hand on Rick’s arm. “No, they did not.”

He watched the leader close his eyes and let out his breath in a relieved puff.

“There is still time, Rick, and you’ve got all of us on your side. I want you to know that.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Rose has got a soft spot for Daryl and you. I bet she’s sharpening her knives as we speak.” 

Rick forced a small smile that failed to reach his eyes, but he appreciated the good intention. 

      “Can I see him?”

Harlan nodded hesitatingly.

      “Sure. But remember – don’t push it.”

Rick sighed audibly. 

      “I won’t. I just … need to see him.”  _ Before I may lose him for good. _

 

In the corridor behind them, Rose stood with her hands balled to fists and her lips pressed together to a thin, angry line.   
She had never before deeply disliked a patient, but this new world obviously entailed lots of “first times”. Like being hungry, not having seemingly endless resources of water, electricity and all the basic goods any more, having to kill a living person and being force to deal with the dead walking – and wanting to slap a patient’s face. Gregory had been the first a few months ago when he insisted on an antibiotics treatment after Ethan had stabbed him, although it may not have been necessary. The lack of antibiotics had almost cost Daryl his life back then. And now this Carol person … 

      “Sharpening the knives sounds like a plan”, the elderly nurse muttered to herself, before she turned on her heels and headed quickly to the stairs. 

 

Rick walked into the room quietly and his pulse picked up instantly when he looked over to the bed. Daryl was asleep. He lay on his side, facing the door the way he always did in order to be ready to react to a potential attack. But now he was lying curled up under the covers in an almost fetal position, knees drawn up, clutching the blanket in a fist right underneath his chin, as though it was his only protection. And he didn’t wake up. Not even when Rick closed the door behind him with a thud.   
The Daryl he used to know had learned to sleep with one eye and ear alert at all times long before the apocalypse, and he would be wide awake and on his feet, aiming his crossbow in the blink of an eye. But this wasn’t the Daryl Rick used to know.   
This man here looked anything but alert or able to face any potential attackers. And he didn’t have a crossbow. Not even a gun. A knife was all he had on him, but Rick wondered, if Daryl still remembered how to use it at all. Guns had never been Daryl’s favorite kind of weapon and he wasn’t the best shot, either. Even Carl’s skills exceeded his by now. But he used to be a master with the silent weapons, his crossbow first of all, as well as any kind of knife. He would hit a walker in the eye from 15 feet away. Or a rabbit or squirrel for that matter. The mere fact, that Daryl was all skin and bones didn’t look as though his hunting skills had survived the loss of memory. 

      “Daryl?”

Rick gently sat down on the edge of the bed, almost slapping his mouth when he realized his slip. 

      “Dennis?” 

He touched the older man’s shoulder and shook him gently, which prompted Daryl’s eyelids to flutter a moment later. The second he opened his eyes, the archer flinched and drew back instantly.

      “Relax”, Rick tried to soothe him, holding up his hands so he could see them. “I won’t hurt you.”

Daryl squinted his eyes and gave him a scrutiny.

      “Oh yeah, yer the guy from the shower.” 

      “Yes. Sorry, if I freaked you out back there. Harlan and Rose …” he continued his explanation, “they needed you clean, so they could examine you, look for bites …”

      “And ya hadda be in that shower there with me butt naked for that?” 

Rick raised an eyebrow.

      “That’s how you usually take a shower. Butt naked. Doesn’t make much sense otherwise.”

      “Huh, I wouldn’t know. Can’t remember, if I ever took a damn shower before in ma life.”

Rick was well aware of the fact, that there would have been people commenting “unlikely” just now, but this was hardly the moment for teasing remarks. 

      “What do you remember?” he asked instead.

      “Not much. Most memories I got are of Carol.” 

Rick gritted his teeth. Harlan was obviously right about those  _ false memories _ , but he kept quiet just as he had promised.

      “Other than that, there’s just bits and pieces. Blurred pictures a’ places or faces, but I wouldn’t know … Dreams. Sometimes I dream a’ things, but I can’t tell if those are places I’ve actually been or if they’re just … well, dreams.”   
He looked around the room.  
      “Where am I anyway?”

      “The Hilltop.” There was no reaction in Daryl’s eyes. “It’s a small community northwest of the Alexandria safe zone.”

This time he saw a reaction in Daryl’s face, but as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone again. 

      “So, ya live here?”  
       
      “No. I’m from Alexandria. Just stopped by to … visit with friends.”

      “Huh. Must be nice ta have friends. People ya know.”

Rick swallowed hard against a lump in his throat.

      “You’ve got friends, too, Da … Dennis. I mean, you’ve got Carol. And that other girl, who was with you.”

      “Jenna.”

      “Yes, Jenna.”

      “She alright?”

Rick shrugged and cast Daryl an apologetic look.

      “I wouldn’t know, sorry. They took her to a patient’s room and from what I’ve heard, they had to give her a sedative, but other than that … She’s taken care of.”  
“And Carol, too”, he added, struggling to keep his inflection neutral. “Wanna tell me, what happened?” 

Daryl averted his eyes and looked out of the window with an idle glance for a moment. Then he said softly.

      “We ran into a bunch a’ assholes, that’s what happened.” He breathed in deep. “Carol and I came across ol’ Harold and his grandkids not too long ago. He was sick, hadda use a cane and was barely able ta stay up on his feet. He was happy ‘bout some help ta find food and protect Judith and Bryan.”

Rick’s head whipped around as though he’d been electrified.

      “What? To protect whom?”

      “Jenna and Bryan”, Daryl repeated with a frown. 

The younger man sighed. Was he imagining things now or did Daryl say “Judith” before? He couldn’t even tell for sure.

      “Didn’t work out too well”, the archer continued bitterly. “When we ran into those bastards, Harold tried ta reason with ‘em, but … he never even got ta finish his sentence before they just shot him.”   
He swallowed hard.   
“May’ve been a blessin’. At least he didn’t have ta watch what they did to his grandkids. And ma wife. – Where is she?”

      “Right next door”, Rick said, nodding in the direction of the adjoining room.

      “I wanna see her”, Daryl replied instantly. 

Unnoticed to the older man, Rick’s hands had balled into fists.

      “She needs to rest. Both of you.”

      “Bed’s big enough. We can stay in here together. She’s the only one I got left.”

For a moment there, Rick feared that the breaking of his heart was audible outside of his chest.   
He looked into the familiar blue eyes, but saw nothing in there but fear and insecurity. Daryl didn’t recoginize him anymore. After all these years, after all they’d been through, after all they’d  _ been  _ to each other, Daryl just forgot.  _ They  _ didn’t exist anymore. The man he once loved was just a stranger to him now. 

      “Yer alright?” Daryl asked cautiously and only now Rick realized, that tears were pooling in his eyes.

      “Yes, I’m fine”, Rick croaked. “Got allergies.” He got up quickly. “I let the doctor know that you want your  _ wife _ moved into your room.”

He turned on his heels and almost fled from the room. 

 

Cursing under her breath, Rose marched into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks, when she saw Jesus, Glenn, Maggie and Tara sitting around the table.

      “Just what I need”, she commented dryly and prompted one or the other raised eyebrow, before she reached for the bottle of rum that was still sitting in the middle of the table. She filled one of the glasses to the brim and raised it determinedly. 

      “Skol!” she said, before she quaffed it off. 

When she placed the glass back onto the table, the other four people present were staring at her with their mouths gapped open. She rolled her eyes.

      “Are you imitating a bunch of herrings again?” She pointed at the glasses and the bottle. “Fill them up. You’re gonna want a drink after I told you what’s been going on up there.” 

In the old world, before the apocalypse, she would never have talked about a patient’s condition or any personal matters to  _ anyone.  _ But this wasn’t the old world. And the rules of the game had changed.   
When she closed her report on Daryl’s condition and filled the four younger people in on Carol and what she’d done, it was deadly quiet in the large kitchen. Finally Tara cast Maggie a glance across the table and asked:

      “Another one?” 

        "Absolutely."

Maggie let the air out with a puff and nodded, prompting Tara to refill her glass with a shrug.

“I can’t believe she did this”, Glenn said, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’s been one of us from the beginning. She knows them both and how close they’ve always been. I mean, everybody knew how much Rick meant to Daryl even back then. She saved us in Terminus. And now … She used Daryl’s amnesia for her own benefit?”

      “Can’t blame her”, Jesus slipped and blushed the next moment, when four pairs of wide eyes were turned his way. “Er, now that came off wrong. I mean, I do understand her. She was all alone and from what you told us, she’s loved Daryl for a long time. Of course, this is no excuse. She shouldn’t have …” 

He made a dismissive gesture and blushed even more when he realized that he was stammering. When he dared look over to Rose, he found her piercing look on him and was instantly aware of one fact – she  _ knew.  _  
She’d known for a long time that he was gay, just like she knew about his crush on Daryl. That woman just knew way too much for his liking.   
While the other three continued discussing this matter between themselves, she pointed two fingers at her eyes and then at him – the mute gesture for  _ I’m gonna watch you. _ And this wasn’t a promise, it was a threat. She was on the warpath already, because of someone trying to tear her two favorite love birds apart and she would tar and feather anybody else who dared attempt such a thing. 

      “Is there anything we can do?” Tara addressed Rose in that moment.

      “Not much”, the nurse replied with regret. “It’s like Harlan said – we can’t force things and tell Daryl the truth right out. And Carol may insist on leaving here soon, so time is running out. But nevertheless, we’re gonna try everything we can to trigger his memory. Go visit him, maybe he will recognize your faces. And subtly drop one or the other name or mention an event that was important. Not out of context, so it doesn’t rise suspicion, but we need to give his mind a few kicks into the right direction. 

The younger people exchanged a few looks and then nodded in agreement. It was a plan. The only way they were able to help Rick – and Daryl – at all.   
Tara got up and walked over to the stove to heat up some water.

      “Tea anybody?” she asked. 

      “Oh, yes, please”, Rose answered with a deep sigh. “And prepare one for Jenna as well. She should wake up soon and I best go up and check on her now.”

Maggie placed a hand on top of hers and said:

      “First you gonna have your own tea and take a breather. A minute more or less isn’t gonna hurt.” 

The nurse cast her a thankful look.

      “You’re right.”

Jesus’ eyes grew as large as saucers.

      “Now I’m really starting to worry”, he commented.

Before Rose had a chance to reply, Tara placed a steaming mug of tea in front of her and then said:

      “I’ll take a cup up to Carol. I’m sure, she’s gonna want one, too.”

She looked over to Maggie and winked, before picking up the other cup and leaving the room, whistling to herself. This time it was Maggie’s laughter accompanying her outside.

 

Fifteen minutes later Rose entered Jenna’s patient’s room and quietly walked over to the young woman’s bed. She placed the cup of tea on the nightstand and then lowered herself to the edge of the bed, before gently placing a hand on top of the young woman’s.

With a shriek the red-haired girl sat bolt upright, panic in her eyes.

      “Shh-shh-shh, it’s okay. No one is going to harm you”, Rose tried to soothe her and when Jenna realized, that it was just an elderly woman with her there, she relaxed visibly. 

      “Where am I?”

      “The Hilltop.”

      “Hilltop?” Her eyes widened frightfully. “Carol said to stay away from the Hilltop and a place called Alexandria. She specifically warned us not to …”

      “Carol had her reasons to say that”, Rose said with forced patience, “but I assure you, we only mean well. Friends found you, as well as Carol and Dennis and brought you here. We’ve got a doctor and food and medicine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

      “No, no, I need to leave. Right now. I …”

Again the nurse put a soothing hand on top of Jenna’s. 

      “Hon, you can’t leave right now. You are in no condition to. Do you remember what …?”

      “How can I forget?” the young woman replied stridently. “I’ll never forget that again, but that was nothing compared to what he’s gonna do when he finds me here.”

Rose furrowed her brow. 

      “He?”

      “Negan”, Jenna whispered, fear darkening her green eyes. 

The older woman grew pale for a moment, before breathing in deep to regain her composure.  
       
      “Negan”, she repeated darkly. “Yes, we know him around here, too. Him and his bunch of douchebags.”

      “You don’t _know_ anything”, Jenna replied panicky. “He may have been here once or twice. Probably introduced Lucille to your community the way he always does, so people understand who they’re dealing with. But believe me, you know nothing. Whatever he does, there’s more. There’s always more.”

There was incomprehension on Rose’s face, so the young woman added fiercely:

      “I was his _property._ Whatever he wants, he gets. Including people. He picks them for various reasons, takes them, brings them to their knees … “ She sucked in the air. “In a woman’s case that’s literal, if you catch my drift. He does whatever he pleases to anyone and it never stops. You best obey, or you’re dead. Or someone close to you.”

She started to shake violently.

      “The things I watched him do … Things he put my poor grandpa and little brother through, when we were _guests_ in the _Sanctuary_.”    
She almost spat the name.     
“Bryan was still a boy. He couldn’t do much to earn points. And my grandpa, he was sick and needed meds. So it was up to me to earn us those points. I was Negan’s wife No. 3 … “    
She trailed off and shuddered, while her face distorted in disgust.    
“The bastard keeps claiming that rape is a no go, that he doesn’t force his wives to do anything. Asshole. Who would ever say ‘no’ to a man who doesn’t leave you any choice, if you don’t want to lose the people you love?”

Rose ran her hand soothingly down the young woman’s arm and Jenna breathed in deep a couple of times to compose herself. 

      “So you ran?” the nurse probed cautiously.

The long red curls bounced as Jenna nodded. 

      “Yes. We became an _orange situation_ , as they like to put it. You don’t even want to know what a _red_ situation is or all the other damn color situations.”

She pointed at the cup of tea on the nightstand and accepted it with a thanksful nod, when Rose handed it to her. After taking a sip, Jenna continued:  
       
“I never thought we could actually make it. I mean, a nine-year-old boy, an old sick man and _me_ against all of _them_? What are the chances? But I would rather have died out here as a free woman, than live another day under that man.”

She cast Rose a meaningful look and the elderly nurse understood, that the ambiguity of her words was quite intentional. 

      “How long have you been out there?” 

Jenna took another sip of her tea and shrugged.

      “I’m not sure. It’s kinda hard to keep track, but a month feels about right.” 

Rose eyes grew large.

      “You were out there for a full month all alone with your grandfather …?”

      “No, not all alone. About a week after we ran, we met Carol and Dennis. Without them, I doubt, we would have made it.”

Despite herself a tiny smile tugged at the corners of Rose’s mouth.

      “Yes, I hear, he’s a good tracker and hunter”, she commented, not without affection clearly peppering her inflection.

To her surprise, Jenna furrowed her brow.

      “Who? Dennis? Don’t know who told you that, but truth to be told …”, she lowered her voice, “he’s about as helpful out there as a hole in the head. Worst shot I ever met and he can’t track for shit. Sorry. Maybe things were different before he had the accident, but these days …”   
She shook her head.  
“We survived, because Carol knows which mushrooms are edible and she found us some berries even at this time of the year. Old, pretty dry ones, but better than nothing. And we gathered nuts, chestnuts, beechnuts … I’m gonna _go_ nuts, if I ever hear the word ‘nut’ again in my life. Once in a while we were lucky to catch a rabbit or squirrel, but Dennis wasn’t any help on those hunting trips. He’s afraid of his own shadow.”

Rose listened to the young woman’s report with a heavy heart. This was worse than she had feared it would be. Last time Daryl’s scars had been on the outside for the most part. This time they were inside and those were much harder to heal. 

      “Why was he so dirty when you were found?” the nurse asked softly. She had a feeling that there was a story to that.

      “Because he’s weird”, Jenna replied with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong. I like him. He was very kind to my grandpa. Walking through the woods was very hard for him, so Dennis helped, even carried him once in a while when pop had no strength anymore. He played with Bryan, tried to distract him and protected us as best as he could whenever we came across walkers. But he is awfully quiet, brooding most of the time and he’s got that way of just staring at you instead of speaking, that I find totally unnerving.”

      “You know, hon”, Rose said calmly, “silence is golden, as they say. And some people are able to communicate better through looks, than through words. Maybe you should have taken the time to look closely. There’s more to him than meets the eye.”

Another frown moved Jenna’s face.  
       
      “How would you know? You just met him. And if there’s more to him than meets the eye, it’s covered under layers of dirt. He was already like that when we first met him and Carol. Like I said, he’s afraid of his own shadow and this … I don’t know, seems to be some kind of armor, a disguise, a way to become invisable or something. 

Rose’s heart went out to Daryl and compassion darkened her eyes.   
Jenna’s explanation sounded reasonable and may have come close to the truth, but it pained her to think that the formerly strong Daryl had become this insecure, frightened Dennis. He must have felt like being nobody and in addition to that chose to be nothing as well. 

      “Sometimes I wonder what kind of man he was before this happened to him”, the younger woman’s voice ended Rose’s train of thought. 

For a moment Jenna looked thoughtfully into the still steaming cup of tea, before cautiously taking another sip. Then she added:

      “Despite being insecure, even timid, he’s no coward. He was there when we were attacked. He tried to protect us, pushed Carol and me behind his back, ready to take on six guys at once with only a knife and his bare hands. But he never stood a chance.”

Her hands started to shake, and she had to bite back tears as the memory hit her full force. Rose lifted the cup out of her grasp and placed it onto the nightstand, before running one hand gently over Jenna’s hair. 

      “Try to rest some more now. I’ll fetch you something to eat and …”

      “Don’t you understand?” the young woman said agitatedly. “You are all in  danger as long as I am here. You’ve got _something_ here that belongs to Negan, and if he finds out about it, there’ll be hell to pay.”    
Jenna reached out and grabbed Rose’s hand.   
“I need to leave”, she urged. “Now.”

“ _Now_ you only need to do one thing, and that’s eat and rest.”

“That’s _two_ things”, a voice sounded from the door and had Rose cast an indignant glance over her shoulder at Harlan, who was standing in the doorframe, suppressing a smirk.

“Oh yeah, Doctor Seuss? 

A smile spread over his face, but he decided to decline another verbal battle with the nurse. He had no chance of winning it anyway.    
He walked over to the bed and placed a bowl of steaming soup onto the nightstand.

      “Thing one’s taken care of”, he remarked, the smile still on his face, before turning to the patient. “I am making my round, checking on my … _our_ patients. How do you feel?” 

      “Trapped”, Jenna replied fiercely to Harlan’s surprise, “like a lamb, waiting to be lead to the slaughter.”

The doctor’s mouth gapped open and he was at a lack for words. He had most obviously never gotten a reply like that to his question. Like Rose said – there were a lot of ‘first times’ these days. 

      “I think, you best eat your soup now, dear”, Rose said gently to the young woman, “and we’ll see what we can do about your _situation_ after you had some more rest.” She patted the back of Jenna’s hand. “If you plan to be out there again, you need your strength.”

She got up, grabbed Harlan’s arm and dragged him towards the door, muttering to him:       
      “Looks like _you’re_ having a situation here, too, doctor.”

Out in the corridor she cast Harlan a stern look.

      “What’s the matter with you?”

      “Well, excuse me, but I kinda liked my patients better when they weren’t out to eat people and didn’t say morbid stuff like that. What ever happened to “Can I get an Aspirin, doctor?”

      “Aspirin’s out. Welcome to the apocalyse.” She slapped Harlan’s shoulder and then added with a nod towards the stairs:   
      “I’m gonna fill you in about Jenna’s _situation_ over some of that soup. And coffee.”

He cast her a surprised look.

      “Thought you preferred tea.”

      “I do. That coffee’s for _you._ You’re gonna need it.”

When his eyebrows rose to his hairline, she added:

      “Carol insists on being moved over to her _husband’s_ room _immediately._ ”    
Her expression darkened visibly.    
“She’s gonna pull this through, and for Daryl’s sake we cannot stop her, you know that. But Rick …”

Harlan sucked in the air.

      “Here we go again.” He sighed. “Those two sure see to it that we ain’t getting bored around here.”

Shaking his head he turned around and with Rose walking next to him, headed for the stairs.

      “I sure hope, we’ll find something stronger than just coffee down there.”

            “Don’t hold you breath”, she commented dryly. “By now, chances are slim to none, I’d say.” 


	10. Chapter 10

With a frustrated sigh, Rick turned onto his other side and tried to get comfortable enough to relax and finally get some sleep. After a moment of breathing deeply in and out and concentrating on relaxing each and every muscle, he turned on his back with an annoyed snort. This was to no avail, he wasn’t going to find any sleep. Not with Daryl this close and yet totally out of reach. Not as long as _she_ was there with him, in the same room, in the same bed … Were they kissing right now? Touching? Was he making love to her the way he used to do with him not too long ago?   
        Rick squeezed his eyes shut, as though he could banish those pictures from his mind that way. He shook his head. No, Daryl was in no condition for that much _action_ , probably. And after what Carol had just gone through, sex was unlikely to be a priority, probably. And yet Rick’s imagination kept running wild.   
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger and let out his breath with another frustrated puff.   
When was the last time he slept properly at all? A long, refreshing, deep and peaceful sleep? He swallowed thickly. As if he didn’t know.    
Three months ago, almost to the day. The night before Daryl left on that hunting trip and never returned.

That day back then had been highly unpleasant and stressful. People in town had been openly doubting him. The council had been pushing him to make decisions on how to handle the Savior problem, what to do about it, _if_ to do something about it. And the mere fact that Rick had even given the _if_ some thought, had ended with Carl being in his hair on top of all this, giving him a look as though he had never been more disappointed and ashamed of his father in all his life. It had felt as though the entire world had turned against him. _Almost_ the entire world.    
Daryl had been on his side as always, his loyalty never faltering.

        _“Bunch a’ pussies, ’s what they are. Demandin’ answers, but they don’t even know the damn questions. Didn’t hear any a’ them havin’ no smart ideas there.”_

Rick heard Daryl’s voice in this mind as though it had only been yesterday. 

        _“’Twas a shitty day for all a’ us, Rick. Next meeting ‘s gonna be better – I’m gonna have a li’l talk with ‘em up front ta kick-start their brains.”_

_         “ _ Kick- _start, huh?”_

A smile had tugged at the corners of the archer’s lips, but he hadn’t replied to that. Instead he had pulled Rick into a tight embrace, running his hands gently over his back and through Rick’s curls until he had felt some of the tension in the younger man’s body subside.  
Daryl always seemed to know just what Rick needed. When to best leave him alone or just be there to listen, or get physically as close as only possible.   
That night Daryl had made love to him, tenderly and gently, because Rick had felt vulnerable and sore as it was and had needed just that. They had fallen asleep cuddled up, Rick feeling warm and secure in Daryl’s strong arms and for a while there, nothing had been able to scare or bother him in any way.   
When Rick had woken the next morning, Daryl had already left on his hunting trip. At the break of dawn, he had slipped out of Rick’s embrace carefully, in order not to wake him, had placed a loving kiss on his head and left. Subconsciously the leader had taken notice, had felt that kiss, but had resumed his sleep nevertheless. Something he had never stopped blaming himself for.  
If he had woken that morning, he sure would have found ways and means to stop Daryl from leaving. If he hadn’t been so damn lazy, maybe they would have shared some more moments of passion, before going on that hunting trip together and none of this would ever have happened.   
He never even got to kiss Daryl good-bye. What was the last thing he said to him that night? Probably something casual like “Good night”, while he should have told Daryl how much he loved him. But they never said that. Daryl wasn’t too fond of mushy scenes and “I love you” didn’t translate into Dixon. So although they both knew how the other one felt and had shown each other in every way possible, those words had never been said. And now they probably never would, either. If Daryl was saying them at all, they would be for Carol. 

Rick slammed his fists onto the mattress and suppressed a frustrated scream. 

After he had almost fled Daryl’s room hours ago, he had aimlessly roamed the house, not knowing where to go or what to do.

        _“She’s the only one I got left.”_

He still heard Daryl’s words echo in the back of his mind and gritted his teeth. He felt helpless, like a man dying of thirst while the lifesaving glass of water was right in front of his eyes, but out of reach.  
Rick had spent a while up in the tower, brooding, then he had gone down to the kitchen and had forced  himself to eat something, although his stomach felt tied up in knots. All the while he had carefully avoided meeting anyone. He needed time to think, time to find his balance. He couldn’t stand people right now with all of their well meant, but empty phrases and their pitying looks.   
At the break of dusk he had decided to try and escape all this by sleeping for a while, hoping against hope to dream of Daryl, if he couldn’t be with him in reality. He had headed up the stairs deeply lost in thoughts and had opened the door to what he had thought was his room, before he realized he was on the wrong floor.   
Carol’s blue eyes, sending him an icy stare, had met him the moment he stepped into the room. Daryl’s room. _Their_ room.   
She had gotten her way and had moved into Daryl’s room! She was there. In bed with him. 

Even while Rick remembered that moment now, the moment he had seen them lying in _their_ bed side by side, he felt like being punched in the guts once again.   
Daryl had been asleep, curled up on one side close to her, while she was gently running a hand over his hair.   
         
        _Paws off his hair, lady._

That had been Rick’s initial thought, when he was instantly reminded of Daryl’s words to Rose whenever the nurse had dared touch the archer’s hair.  
Although it didn’t look it, Daryl was mindful of his hair and didn’t like people to touch it. At least not just anybody. Judith was allowed to tug on it any time and Daryl had Denise cut the tips once in a while when it started to look too shaggy. He used to love it, when Rick forked his fingers through the unkempt strands or ran a hand tenderly over his head when he was about to fall asleep – the way Carol did now. Other than that, Daryl’s hair was off limits and seeing Carol taking liberties in that respect, too, had made Rick furious the moment he had seen it.

        “Do you have to barge in here like that?” she had hissed his way instantly. 

Rick had breathed in deep in order to keep calm.

        “I didn’t know you were here”, he had answered flatly.

        “Where else would I be? He’s my husband”, she had replied provocatively.

        “Don’t press your luck, Carol.”

        “Or what, Rick? Whether you like it or not, but I’m all Da … Dennis has got now.” She peered at Daryl, but he was still fast asleep.    
        “I liked him long before you even _saw_ him”, she spat. “You were so caught up back then in your own little war with Shane, over Lori and Carl, positions, leadership, _everything,_ that you didn’t even notice Daryl.”

        “That’s not true and you know it.”  
         
        “Oh yes, once in a while you thought it a good idea to point your gun at his head, almost begging the _redneck scum_ to give you a reason.”

Rick’s eyes had widened in shock.

        “Are you crazy? I would never have …”

        “You would have!” she shot back, instantly casting Daryl another glance to make sure her agitated voice hadn’t woken him, before she added:   
        “What sense is there in pointing a gun, if you don’t mean it? Daryl was nobody to you, nothing. You didn’t give a damn. What could have stopped you? You even killed Shane.”

Rick had felt as though she had slapped his face and had gasped audibly. 

        “I can’t believe, you said that”, he had croaked. “Shane … He was my best friend. I grew up with him, I trusted him with my life, but in the end he wanted to take that, along with everything else. I loved that man like a brother and he tried to kill me.”

        “We’ve all heard your version of the story. We’ll just never know, if that’s really what happened, won’t we?”

        “I don’t need your absolution. Nothing I did or didn’t do gives you the right to do _this_.”

He had pointed at Daryl with an irritating stinging sensation in his eyes. 

        “You stole him from me!” Carol had hissed. “I loved him first.”

        “But he never loved _you_. You know damn well that it was always me.”

Her eyes had glared daggers at him.

        “But he doesn’t _know_ you any longer! He can’t remember you at all, so you obviously didn’t leave much of an impression.”

In the initial impulse he had raised his hand, ready to slap her face, when he saw her raise her chin defiantly the same moment Daryl started to stir next to her. 

        “Go ahead, Rick. Let him see what kind of man you really are.”

He had lowered his arm with gritted teeth.

        “Doesn’t change a thing, Rick. He’s lost to you. He’s mine now, rightfully mine, and you never gonna get him back.”

        “You’re living a lie, Carol, and the truth is gonna catch up to you one day.”

        “The truth is dead and buried.” _And you will be, too, soon enough._

The agitated voices had started to bring Daryl around and on the cusp of waking he had snuggled up closer to Carol, while she had resumed the gentle stroking of his hair. Rick had left the room just in time before the first tear trickled down his cheek.

 

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Rick sat up in his bed and stared out the window into the dark sky. The moon and the stars were veiled by clouds and he didn’t have a lamp lit in his room. There was total darkness around him, which matched his state of mind perfectly.   
He knew, he wouldn’t sleep any time soon. Maybe some fresh air would help. Without turning the lights on, he dressed with lethargic motions and then left the room to head downstairs.   
He heard voices somewhere in the house. It wasn’t really that late yet. The sun just set early this time of the year, the nights longer than the days now.

When Daryl and he became lovers, it had been summer. Hot and humid in this part of the country and to some extent totally unpleasant. Rick had never been a fan of the summer heat and the sticky air that was difficult to breathe. Interesting enough, despite being a person who loved being outside Daryl had felt the same way. He hadn’t minded the autumn storms, snow and frost during the winter and cool spring rains – each time of the year had its charm to him, as long as it wasn’t the sticky, hot and humid summer.    
Both of them had looked forward to the winter so much. Had made plans for winter BBQs, cuddling in front of the fireplace with a nice mug of hot mulled wine, building snowmen with Judith … and Carl, if that wasn’t too _not cool_ for a boy his age. They had had _plans_ , had looked forward to a future together, as a family.    
Rick couldn’t bear to imagine how long, cold and dark the winter was going to be without Daryl. And if Carol was going to have her way, Daryl, she and Jenna were going to spend that winter out there, in the woods, without proper shelter and food supplies. A thought that had Rick shudder, although the Barrington House was heated. 

        _“_ She _is going to get him killed”,_ he couldn’t help thinking. 

For a split second he considered going out onto the balcony, but reconsidered almost instantly. No, he couldn’t go anywhere near that room again tonight. He needed some air, but just the thought of Carol being in that room with Daryl choked him.    
After his previous conversation with her, the thought _‘I should have killed her’_ had popped up, which hadn’t really come as a surprise. He was thinking things like that easily these days. Had _promised_ people to kill them often enough, secretly and to their face alike, and in most cases he had kept that promise. They had deserved no better, but things were different in Carol’s case.    
Without her, they would all have died in Terminus. She had been a valuable member of the group for years and if she hadn’t found Daryl after the accident, he would probably have died out there months ago. There was no denying these facts, much that he would have liked to.    
He walked down the stairs and through the hall, headed for the front porch. There were voices in Gregory’s study. Was that Maggie? And Richard? He couldn’t tell for sure. Were they continuing the meeting without him, because they had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t up to it? Up to more discussions, up to more planning, up to leading people into another war? He didn’t even care at this point.    
A moment later he lowered himself onto the top step of the the porch and leaned his back against one of the columns. There was no lantern and the drapes in Gregory’s study were closed, so the porch lay in total darkness, which suited Rick just fine. There was nothing to see out here and he didn’t mean to be seen, either.    
For a while he sat there totally unmoving, just staring blindly ahead of himself, not even aware of the cool mist that started creeping into his jacket and through the fabric of his pants where he was sitting on the cold stone floor. 

A voice behind his back startled him and had him flinch.

        “Mind if I join you?”

Without waiting for a reply, Tara lowered herself onto the step next to him and looked at him from the side.  
Rick didn’t return the glance, just shugged and resumed his silent staring out into the black night sky. 

For a moment it was quiet between them, then he said: 

        “Sure you wanna spend the night with me again?” 

It was a mild teasing, but while the words sounded like a joke, he was unable to hide the sadness that peppered his inflection. 

She nudged his shoulder gently.

        “Had nights with worse company”, she answered with a shrug, returning the teasing with the same kind of sad inflection.

        “And others …”, they both started in sync and then broke off, casting a surprised look at each other. 

        “Yeah”, she repeated, “and others ...” 

Tara heard him sigh and cautiously moved a little closer to him.

        “I can’t begin to imagine how you must feel.”

        “I can’t begin to imagine how _Daryl_ must feel”, Rick replied in a strained voice. “He cannot tell friend from foe, doesn’t recognize his own mirror image, doesn’t know anything of his past …” He broke off and swallowed thickly. “He’s scared and confused and … I just want to hold him and help him through this, but … he doesn’t know me anymore.” 

The young woman placed her hand lightly on his thigh.

        “I know”, she whispered. “Rose filled us in on Daryl’s condition and I can imagine what he’s going through. But, like I said, I cannot begin to imagine how _you_ feel.”

He looked at the tip of his shoes for a moment as though he had to think about that question. Then he said:

        “The same, I guess. Scared, confused …”

She frowned.

        “Really?”

        “Without him, I’m missing a part of myself”, he replied almost inaudibly. 

She leaned forward in the attempt to look at him in the twilight of the moon, that peeked through the heavy clouds once in a while.

        “Yeah, _that_ feeling I can relate to, but don’t tell me it’s making you feel scared or confused.”    
She gave his thigh a slap.   
“C’mon, Grimes, be honest here. That part of you you’re missing is not lost. It’s right up there in that room, _your_ room, and Carol took it. Daryl’s right there in your reach, he’s alive and in time he may remember you. Hell, he loves you, man! No one can totally forget _that_. Amnesia my ass. It’s still inside of him, buried, but it’s _there._ All of it. And you’re just letting her take it all away from you?”    
She slapped him again.    
“What’s the matter with you? That’s _your_ man up there. Damn, I’d give anything for the chance to get Denise back and you’re just letting it slip through your fingers?”

There were tears in her voice for a second, but she swallowed them quickly and straightened her back, while he looked at her with wide eyes. 

        “Don’t look at me as though I’ve just grown a second head. You still got a chance there and it just makes me furious to see, how you are willing to give up before you’ve even started to fight.”

Anger flared up in his eyes.

        “I’m not giving up. I want him back more than anything and right now, it’s killing me to think that she’s up there with him, in _our_ bed, kissing him and ….”

        “Woah, hold it right there, Romeo. I get the picture, but I think your fantasies are running a little wild here.”

He looked at her taken aback and raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

        “Rick”, she said patiently as though she was talking to a child, “getting herself a husband there may have been Carol’s intention, but I don’t believe she got the whole package. A man who covers himself in ten layers of dirt, doesn’t just _look_ downright untouchable, he doesn’t _mean_ to be touched, either. If he wants her close, it’s because she is the only person in the world he knows and trusts, so she means some kind of security and guidance – that’s all. He’s like a big kid at the moment and she’s doing what she’s best at – being a mom.”

She winked at Rick and nudged his side with her elbow.    

        “I doubt, kissing was even on the menu and she sure as hell never made it to dessert.”

This had Rick chuckle despite himself.

        “You’ve been around Abraham too much”, he commented. 

After giving her words a moment of thought, she heard him let out his breath in a sigh.

        “You may be right”, the relief in his inflection was palpable, before he added a soft: “Thanks.”

For a moment they sat in silence again, then Tara said:

        “Rose told us about Carol’s plan to leave as soon as possible and take Daryl with her.”

        “Rose is quite a chatterbox these days, huh?” Rick commented sternly, the reminder of Carol’s plan bringing a shadow to his eyes.

        “We’ve only got a few days”, Tara continued unimpressed, “but we’re gonna give you a hand and will try whatever we can to trigger his memory.”

        “Who’s _we_?” he asked with a frown.

        “Maggie, Glenn and I. I’m not sure what Jesus, Harlan and Rose can do, but they are willing to give it a try.”

Rick nodded curtly with a sad air on his face.

Tara reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a round, metallic object. Almost tenderly she ran her thumb over its surface, before she held it out to Rick.

        “This is the soda Denise got for me. The gift she felt was so important, that she was out there for it.”    
Her voice was thick with emotions now.    
“Daryl gave it to me the day I came home with Heath. Tomorrow I’m gonna take breakfast or lunch or whatever up to them and leave it on his nightstand. Maybe he’ll recognize it.”

Rick’s head whipped around.

        “But … I know, how much this soda means to you. You take it with you, wherever you go, because … Tara, if he doesn’t remember, you may lose it.”

She lowered her head and nodded.

        “I know. Nothing’s gonna bring Denise back though and this …” she looked at the can, “this is just a _thing._ She’s in here with me.”    
Tara pointed at her heart and breathed in deep.    
“But I love Daryl, too, and if this soda helps to bring him back, it’s worth the sacrifice. Denise wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, either.”

For a second Rick just looked at the young woman, then he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, resting his head against hers for a moment.

        “Woah, Grimes, watch it”, she teased, “just because I’m willing to spend the night with you again, doesn’t mean you can get carried away here.” 

He pulled back, smiling despite himself, before another wave of sadness washed over his face.  
         
        “I just wish, we had more time. I don’t know what to do, if he doesn’t remember.”

Tara lowered her eyes and looked at her hands, her fingers fumbling with each other.

        “If you love somebody, set them free”, she quoted softly. “Sting. It was one of his greatest songs, I think.” She sighed. “The man’s probably dead, but the music’s still alive. And as sad as it is, Rick, he was right with those lyrics.” 

She watched him out of the corners of her eyes. Saw his entire body tense and his eyes stare into the distance as though he could find all the answers in the dark night sky. Suddenly he jumped up and said: “There’s something I gotta do”, before hurrying down the steps and running toward the gate. 

        “Rick!”

Tara noticed the drapes of the study behind her move and Gregory peek out of the window.   
         
        _“Just what we need, Grimes”,_ she thought, _“that jackass seeing you acting totally over the top again.”_

She jumped to her feet and hurried after Alexandria’s leader. Rick had already driven their car up to the gate and had just gotten out again to have a fierce debate with Kal, who refused to open it. The sentries had clear order to never let anyone in or out after nightfall and unless Gregory or Jesus told him otherwise, Kal was going to stick to his orders. 

        “Are you nuts?” Tara slammed the driver’s door shut and stepped in between the car and Rick, effectfully drawing his attention away from the sentry. “What are you gonna do out there all by yourself in the middle of the night?” 

        “Get out of my way. I told you, there’s something I gotta do.”

        “Like what? Getting yourself killed by a walker you didn’t see in time or any of those assholes out there?”

        “I don’t have time for this.” He tried to push her out of the way. “Told you, this is something I gotta do and that’s all you need to know.”

        “Yeah, well, maybe there’s something I gotta do, too”, she commented dryly. “Like giving you the finger again or rather yet the entire hand.”

Even while she was speaking, her arm came up in the attempt to hit him. She totally intended to knock him unconscious for his own good. Never before had she tried to do that, but she cared enough for him to give it a try.    
Before her fist connected with his jaw, it was stopped by the fierce grasp of another hand though. She hadn’t even noticed Jesus approach.

        “Not ladylike”, he said matter-of-factly. 

She yanked at her arm, casting him a scowl and he let go, holding his hands up defensively. 

        “Thanks a lot, dumbass”, she said angrily to the long-haired man. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” 

        “Because Rose doesn’t appreciate it if guests show up at breakfast with a black eye. Hickeys are welcome anytime, but black eyes are a big no-no.”

A slap upside the back of his head had the beanie he was wearing slip over his eyes, but he didn’t really have to look to know who it was.

        “Hey, Rose.”

The nurse ignored him and let her eyes wander over the assembled young people, until they came to rest on Rick. 

        “Did you wanna run down to the gas station real quick, because you ran out of smokes and potato chips?” 

Rick stopped glaring at Tara and turned to Rose with raised eyesbrows.

        “What?” 

She shrugged.

        “For the life of me, I couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation why the heck you were gonna go out there all by yourself after nightfall. So I figured, maybe amnesia is contageous these days and you may have forgotten that there’s a zombie apocalypse out there and we are dealing with a bunch of maniacs called the Saviors.”

Her sarcasm was pungent. 

        “There’s something I need to do. _Now_. I can’t sleep anyhow and this is important.”

He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed anymore. Just frustrated, tired and agitated. Rose took a step toward him and looked at him closely, as far as the headlights of the car allowed it.

        “It’s got something to do with Daryl, I suppose?” she said calmly.

Rick’s lips became a thin line as he nodded wordlessly.

        “And this can’t wait, because time is running out, huh?” she added.

He nodded again. For a moment she just looked into his tired blue eyes and understood that it was futile to even try and stop him. 

        _“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do”,_ she thought.

With a sigh she turned to Tara and said:

        “I assume, you can’t sleep, either?”    
Before Tara even had a chance to open her mouth, Rose continued:    
“Thought so, otherwise why would you be out here at all instead of in your room? So you best go with Rick and help him do whatever it is he needs to do.”

Jesus may have been lots of things, but dumb sure wasn’t one of them. He had followed Rose’s train of thought and came to the conclusion, that he had best make for a quick retreat, when a hand to his collar stopped him dead in his tracks.    
He sighed.

        “I get it – since I’m here, too, I won’t sleep whether I could have or not, because I’m gonna go with Rick as well.”

        “That’s my boy”, she said sirupy, patting his cheek. 

        “I’m your gofer, that’s what I am.”

        “That, too”, Rose confirmed relentlessly. 

Five minutes later the car had passed the gate and was headed down the street in the direction of Alexandria. Through a gap between the drapes Gregory stared after it with a dark look, until the gate had closed again. 


	11. Chapter 11

Maggie rubbed her hands over tired eyes and stretched her aching back. Her rounded belly was growing heavy and the extra weight she had to carry, along with the fact that the little creature growing inside of her had pushed all of her inner organs into the most unusual places by now, made her days tiring and her nights torture. She hadn’t slept properly for a while now, but her son or daughter wasn’t even to blame for her lack of sleep the previous night.  
She had been in Gregory’s study together with Richard when Rick had left without further notice. After the meeting that morning had been ended due to practically everybody running off and the tea _not agreeing_ with Gregory, the man had been a pain in the neck all day. Then again, wasn’t he always?  
Maggie sighed.  
Gregory had been _an even greater_ pain than usual the rest of the day, and when she had run into him accidentally that evening, he had been inclined to call next day’s meeting off. 

          “Rick’s incapable of leading”, he had simply said to her. “That man wouldn’t be able to plan a BBQ at this point, let alone a war. His only concern is that Daryl guy upstairs and as long as Mr.Grimes is thinking with his dick, I won’t waste my precious time on totally senseless meetings.”

One hour. Richard and she had been in that study for one hour straight, trying to convince Gregory that he was wrong.  
Richard had mustered all the patience and good will he possessed to particularize the importance of teamwork and how he felt it to be highly unwise to doubt any of the leaders so shortly before the war. That they needed to trust a man, who had given them no reason for doubts.  
Maggie wondered, if he had truly believed all that since he barely knew Rick personally and couldn’t really have been convinced by what he had seen of Alexandria’s leader so far.  
She had determinedly explained, that Rick was very well capable to keep business and private concerns separated. That he was aware of the importance of these meetings and would be there the next morning, paying full attention to moving their plans along. That he had gotten his group to Virginia all the way from Atlanta, and that he had proven to be a capable leader of Alexandria ever since Deanna died.  
She had wanted to believe in her own words so badly, had forced all the nagging questions and concerns far back into a dark corner of her mind. That’s when they had heard Tara’s voice call Rick’s name right outside the window, the young woman’s inflection clearly peppered with worry. A car’s engine had started up, there’d been voices near the gate, Kal calling something to the sentry that sounded like   
“We’re gonna open the gate!”  
When Gregory had peeked through the drapes and turned back around with a scowl on his face, Maggie _knew_ what was going on even before he had said furiously:

        “Rick just left. Is _that_ the guy you claim to be a reasonable man and a capable leader? In the first impulse he does whatever he pleases without giving it a second thought. Is he even gonna stick to any plans we make? Can we trust him, when the china hits the fan or is he just gonna _reconsider_ and carry out his own plans at any given time? – The man’s totally unstable, Maggie.” 

        “There is a good reason for him leaving just now, I’m sure. We should wait and see what he’s got to say, before we … “

        “A _good_ reason to head out there in the middle of the night? Like what? Where could he possibly be going? And if this concerns the Hilltop and the war in any way, why wasn’t I informed? Teamwork and trust, huh?”

Both she and Richard had run out of arguments at this point and Maggie had offered to try and find someone, who may have been able to shed some light. Maybe Tara knew what was going on. Or Jesus, since the man seemed to be everywhere at any time, however he did that.    
When she had returned to the study, her face had been visibly paler and she had raised her hands in a clueless gesture. 

        “Rick left with Tara and Jesus. No one knows why and where to”, she had admitted tiredly, while Gregory’s expression had darkened further.  
         
        “Jesus. My right-hand man”, he had said through gritted teeth. “He didn’t find it appropriate to inform me, either. I see, Rick’s influence is bearing highly unpleasant fruit already. And the man himself is clearly out of control once again.”

Her eyes had locked firmly with his as she replied:

        “We’ll wait. I’m sure, they gonna be back by morning and Rick’s gonna have an explanation.”

 

It _was_ morning now. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the moon had set and the horizon grew lighter with each passing minute. Dawn would be breaking soon.   
        If she had been able to doze off at all, it must have been a fitful sleep, because she didn’t feel rested at all. Even in her dreams, her thoughts had been with Rick and the other two, worry nagging deep inside of her. Not even Glenn next to her, spooning up behind her and holding her tight, had been able to soothe her. 

As she stood on the front porch of the Barrington House now, staring out into the darkness over to the gate, she was craving a cup of coffee more than anything. She was sick of tea. There were a lot of things she was sick of, just like everybody else, but most of these things couldn’t be helped. But she was definitely immensely sick of tea and just wanted a decent cup of coffee. Later she would allow herself one, even if Li’l Pancake would do somersaults afterwards. She didn’t see how she could make it through the day and another meeting with Gregory without caffeine. What would they ever do the day they ran out of it?   
A whistle from outside the wall had her strain her eyes and with a relieved sigh she saw the sentries open the gate a moment later.    
The moment Rick had parked the car and got out, he saw Maggie hurry towards him across the square as fast as she was still able to. He made a soothing gesture with his hand to slow her down and started running himself to meet her halfway.    
She was panting heavily although she had only covered a few yards and shook her head. 

        “I feel like an elefant”, she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

        “You need to sit down”, Rick urged, but she waved the comment off. 

        “I’m alright. Just didn’t sleep too well and Gregory’s been in my hair since last night. Where have you been?”

        “You don’t want to know”, Tara said grumpily while walking up to them, Jesus next to her. 

        “Yes, I do”, Maggie replied with a frown, turning to Rick once again. “And that better be good, because by now Gregory is convinced that you’re not even capable of leading a bunch of boyscouts to summercamp, let alone a whole community into a war.”  

Rick’s eyes became as cold as glacier ice.

        “That what he said?”

        “In less pleasant words, yes. And you guys heading out there in the middle of the night without even informing him, wasn’t the best way to convince him otherwise.”

She cast Jesus a chiding look and saw him sigh deeply.

        “I suppose, putting the blame on Rose isn’t gonna help the matter, huh?”

        “Not likely”, she replied. “Now let’s hear it, where have you been?”

        “I needed to find something”, Rick said in a low voice.

        “Yeah, his mind”, Tara muttered next to him, which earned her a scowl from Alexandria’s leader.    
Tara looked at him defiantly, pointing to Maggie.   
        “She’s gonna agree, when she hears this. Tell her what you had to go looking for so urgently.”

Rick reached into his pocket and held a round object out to Maggie. The young woman’s eyes widened.

        “A CD? You were out there and risked your life, looking for _this_?”

        “Yup”, Tara cut in, “and it only took us a couple of hours of driving and searching the entire fucking highway inch by inch  …”

        “It wasn’t the _entire fucking highway_ ”, Rick retorted in an annoyed inflection. 

        “Right. He remembered passing a street sign that said _Sterling_ shortly before he tossed that thing out of the window when we came here”, she said with an eye-roll. “That made it so much easier finding a small object like that in the middle of the night, when you have no idea just where exactly it was even tossed.”

        “We found it, didn’t we?” he shot back, before lowering his eyes and breathing in deep. “It’s important. Daryl and I … we used to listen to that CD on each run we went on together.” He swallowed hard. “It’s tradition”, he croaked and Tara’s anger evaporated instantly.

Maggie had her hand run gently down his arm.

        “That’s good thinking, Rick. He may recognize the music, if he loves it that much.”

        “He hates it”, Rick replied with a forced smile. “Last run we went on together, he threatened to beat the crap out of me, if I ever tortured him with it again. Still I hope, he’s gonna remember it.”

Maggie cocked her head and looked at him calmly.

        “I was gonna go up there later today and bring them food or something to drink and maybe hum the song Beth sang at the prison.” Her eyes became moist. “He asked me a few times to sing it to him after she … well, after she wasn’t with us anymore.”

Rick pulled her into a hug and for a moment they just stood like that. 

        “Harlan said sounds and scents may trigger memories easier than pictures and between a song he truly loved and music he hated, we may be able to get through to him.”

        “I understand why you had to go look for that CD”, Maggie said softly.

        “So do I”, Tara added.

        “That doesn’t change the fact”, Jesus cut in, “that the _good_ reason for us leaving in the middle of the night at a moment’s notice is a CD. Gregory is gonna skin us alive, if that’s all we gonna tell him, especially after Maggie’s speech on how Rick is able to keep business and private concerns separated.”

        “Then don’t”, Tara said with a shrug. “Tell him we were checking on the nightly activities of the Saviors. Tell him, we were circling the area to see if those assholes are out there even at nights or if Negan gave them a curfew.”  

Rick, Maggie and Jesus looked at her with wide eyes and then cast a look at each other.

        “That’s a damn good thought”, Jesus commented. “Not just as an alibi. We should really be doing that. If they are all nicely tucked in at nights, that could give us an advantage.”

He bent over and kissed Tara on the cheek.   
         
        “A couple of more ideas like that, bonita, and I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

        “Don’t bother. I’m gay”, she commented dryly, which brought a wide grin to his face.

        “Small world.” 

 

After Rick, Tara and Jesus had returned safely, Maggie was able to sleep. As was Rick, now that he had found that CD. New hope and a new chance had occurred. The night had been long and the time-consuming search, explosed to the danger out there had taken its toll on Jesus and Tara as well. For a few hours all four of them retired to their rooms and took a nap. It was going to be a long day again.    
        They had made a plan before turning in – a schedule for the task force “Daryl”, that provided each meal to be taken up to Daryl and Carol by someone else, along with items, sounds and scents that could possibly help Daryl remember.    
Tara was the first one to be up on her feet again. She was scheduled for breakfast, since Rick, Maggie and Jesus had to be at the meeting with Gregory in the morning, and she was eager to see Daryl, to talk to him, to give it a shot right away. She wasn’t able to sleep a moment longer.    
Just when she was preparing some scrambled eggs in the kitchen, she heard footsteps behind her back and wasn’t surprised to see Maggie appear in the doorway. 

        “Were you able to sleep?” Tara asked, while she turned back to the pan.

        “Yes. You?”

Tara nodded.

        “You’re up early”, Maggie said softly, letting her words linger in the air in an unspoken question.

        “I’m eager to try”, Tara said without turning, running a finger lightly over the can of soda that was sitting next to her on the counter. “After Denise’s death … I don’t know what I would have done without Daryl.”    
She wiped a hand over her eyes quickly, before adding:    
“I owe him. And it … it just sucks that Rick lost him in the first place and now he got him back and yet not. We ain’t getting Denise back, but I’ll be damned if we lose Daryl, too.”

Maggie walked up to the other woman and hugged her from behind as far as her belly allowed it. 

        “Good luck. I’ll give it a try later with Beth’s song.”

Tara cast a look over her shoulder.

        “Does it hurt you to sing that song?”

Maggie nodded with a sad air on her face.

        “Each time. But it’s worth it.”

Silently Tara put the scrambled eggs and some toast onto two plates and placed them on a tray along with two cups of coffee.”

        “No tea today?” Maggie asked with a suppressed smirk.

        “I thought I was gonna give Carol a break – till later”, Tara replied with a vicious sparkle in her eyes. “Besides, Daryl hates tea, you know that.”

This time Maggie couldn’t help giggling.

        “ _If I’m as sick as a dog, ya can force that crap into me ta put me outta ma misery_ ”, she quoted with a smile, trying to imitate Daryl’s slang as best as she could, which had Tara laugh out loud. 

For a moment the two women just smiled at each other, before their amusement slowly faded once again.

        “God, I miss him”, Tara commented matter-of-factly, before picking up the tray and heading to the door. “See you later.”

        “Yes”, Maggie replied softly. “See you later.” 

 

When Tara reached the door to Daryl and Carol’s room, she hesitated a moment. It made her nervous to think that they were in there together and that Daryl would probably not recognize her at all. What was she going to say? Wouldn’t Carol be suspicious, if she brought up breakfast instead of Rose or Harlan?

        _“Only one way to find out”,_ Tara decided a moment later and knocked on the door. 

        “C’mon in”, a well-known deep voice answered from inside and had her heart skip a beat. 

When she entered the room, she saw Daryl lying in bed on his side, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the door and the early-morning visitor. The sound of running water from the adjoining bathroom indicated, that Carol was taking a shower and Tara’s heart skipped another beat. This was perfect. She had the chance to talk to him alone, without the watch-dog present.    
If she had expected any kind of reaction from him though, the slightest hint that he recognized her, those hopes were blasted instantly. All Daryl did on seeing her, was frown while his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

        “Who are you?” 

        “Tara.” She approached the bed and placed the tray gently on the nightstand. 

        “Yer the kitchen help or somethin’?” 

        “Or something”, she replied, while she looked at him calmly. “Brought you some toast and scrambled eggs. We got lots of eggs. The chickens were obviously in the mood.”

        “Thanks”, Daryl said flatly. “Next time though, ‘stead a’ the eggs bring up one a’ ‘em chickens. ‘m starvin’.”

A smile spread over Tara’s face.

        “I’ll see what I can do. Got you some coffee, too, and …” She breathed in deep, while she pulled the can of soda out of her pocket and sat it on the nightstand as well. “And some pop.” 

He furrowed his brow.

        “What’s  _ pop _ ?”

Tara swallowed thickly.

        “Soda. Sorry, my girlfriend Denise … she was originally from Ohio and used to call it _pop_ instead of _soda._ Guess that sort of rubbed off on me.”   
She thought she saw a reaction in his eyes and her pulse rate accelerated instantly.   
“Well, I didn’t know what you like, so … I’m gonna leave this here.” She tapped her index finger lightly to the can one last time and clenched her teeth.   
          _“It’s for a good cause, Tara. Pull yourself together. It’s just a can of_ pop.” 

        “Lemme have that, please”, Daryl said, while he held his hand out to the can.

Wordlessly she handed it over to him, her lips a thin line now. He struggled to sit up and held the orange can in his hand for a moment, before putting a finger on the latch to open it. She held her breath, but all of a sudden he seemed to have frozen and just stared at the object in his hand. 

        “Denise is a pretty name”, he said unexpectedly. “’s a li’l like mine. Denise … Dennis. Would be kinda funny ta name a set a’ twins that, don’t ya think?” 

He turned and placed the can on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

        “Think I’m gonna save it for later”, he said with a shrug.

        “Yeah? Why?” Tara croaked out.

He shrugged again.

        “Dunno. Can’t remember if I like _pop_ at all. Would be a waste ta open it if I don’t. Stuff like that is rare and kinda precious these days, so I’m gonna wait till I know.”

Tears were pooling in Tara’s eyes all of a sudden and she swallowed against the lump in her throat, while Daryl gave her a scrutiny.

        “Ya havin’ allergies, too?” 

        “What?”

        “That curly-haired guy, who ‘s here yesterday had tears in his eyes, too, suddenly. Said he had allergies. Hell if I knew what kind of allergies that would be in the middle of November. Hope it ain’t the walkers or dirt, or ya guys are screwed.” 

Despite herself, she had to giggle about the comment, which had a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as well.

        “Ya got a pretty smile”, he said openly. “Hope ya havin’ reasons ta smile a lot.”

        “Not too many”, Tara replied, her smile fading. “Who does these days?” 

        “True. At least ya remember if ya got any or not.”

The young woman nodded towards the bathroom door.

        “You’ve got your wife.”

        “Yeah. But that’s about the only thing.”

        “That’s a lot. Having someone in your life. Someone you love …”

There was a short frown on his face, but only a second later he nodded.

        “Yer right. Means a lot. Yer girlfriend here, too?”

He watched Tara grow pale, new tears welling up in her eyes and cursed under his breath.

        “Sorry. That was a dumb thing ta ask.”

        “No, you had no way of knowing. It’s just … it happened only recently. She was shot with a crossbow.” 

        “Crossbow”, he said thoughtfully, as though he tried to imagine such a weapon.   
Without him even noticing it, his hands moved while he was looking absentmindedly out of the window. The left one turned palm up, while he pulled the right arm back, as though he was holding his crossbow. Tara gasped. He was still in there, he had to be.   
Just when she was about to probe deeper, the door to the bathroom opened and Carol came into the room. Her hair was still wet and she was wrapped into a large, fluffy towel.   
When she saw Tara, she froze and her eyes looked suspiciously at the younger woman and her _husband._

        “What’s going on?” she asked, while her eyes moved between the two of them.

        “Good morning to you, too”, Tara couldn’t help saying, while Daryl cast the two women a surprised look, not sure if the tension he felt was just his imagination or not.

        “Carol, this is Tara”, he introduced the young woman. “She brought us breakfast.”

        “Nice of her”, Carol replied sweetly. “Thanks a lot, _Tara_ , but if you don’t mind – I’d like to change now.”

Tara looked at her piercingly for a moment and then said with a nod.

        “Yeah, you really should – change, I mean.” If Carol caught the innuendo, she didn’t let it show. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

 

Rick had trouble concentrating and paying attention to what was said around him.  
About the same time that Tara had left _Dennis_ and Carol’s room, he, Jesus and Maggie had entered Gregory’s study for the scheduled meeting and it was still going. He wasn’t up to this and he knew it.   
Not because it had been a long night, but because the mere presence of the unfriendly, conceited man choked Rick. He hadn’t forgotten his words about Daryl and he wouldn’t. He hadn’t forgotten _anything_ that man had said or done since he first met him, and secretly he had regretted more than once what happened to Ethan. The man had done them a favor stabbing Gregory and Rick had killed him for that. He had made a mential note more than once to never get involved in other people’s business again, before he knew the entire story. If Ethan had been successful, they would have been spared a lot.   
Naturally Gregory had given them a piece of his mind about them leaving in the middle of the night, despite him giving the order to never open the gate after nightfall. And he specifically demanded to be informed from now on about every move and plan, unless certain people wished to be sent home to Alexandria right away, regardless of their medical situation or who the hell they thought they were.   
        It had taken all of Rick’s willpower to stay calm, or rather _appear_ calm, while he just wanted to shoot that bastard right there and then. If he did, would anybody mind at all?   
Jesus and Maggie had gone through with the plan and had given the explanation Tara had thought up, and for the time being Gregory even bought it and had assented to keeping an eye on the surrounding area even at nights. After all, if the Hilltop was safe, so was he and his property, which was definitely the priority. 

        “Now, where were we, when we got _interrupted_ yesterday?” Gregory just said, prompting a frown on Richard’s face at being referred to as _interruption._

          “I think, it was you giving a speech about the importance of a right-hand-man”, Maggie said with a warning twinkle in her eye.

She could leave it there and have Jesus think that Gregory did in fact say words of appreciation about him, or she could continue and let everybody here know what else he said. That _right-hand man_ was a nicer term for _henchman_ and that he wouldn’t have any problem moving on if Jesus wasn’t around anymore. That it would just be hell of a hassle having to break in someone new.  
Gregory’s eyes narrowed and he caught on immediately. How dared this woman threaten him that way, undermining his authority? She hadn’t heard the end of this yet.

        “I think, we were talking about _warpaint_ ”, he almost spat, wrinkling his nose about that plan once again.

His obvious rejection of the idea was ignored by the others as Rick picked up.

        “Right. I think, we already agreed on that.” He cast Gregory a stern glance. “But we need to do more. We’ve trained all of our people separately, now we have to teach them how to work together as a team. They need to be a cohesive unit before we go to war.

Richard nodded his approval. 

        “So you’re saying we best have our people stay in the other communities for a while and train there?”

        “Right.”

        “Are you nuts?” Gregory flared. “I don’t want a bunch of strangers trample through my house and … “

        “ _Your_ house”, Maggie cut in, “may go up in flames or be Negan’s property soon, if we don’t stop those bastards. We are sorry for the inconvinience, but this is how it will be done.” She cast Jesus a glance. “Right?” 

Gregory’s right-hand man shrugged.

        “Sounds good to me.”

        “Unfortunately this is not your decision to make”, Gregory tossed in angrily. 

        “What is it you suggest?” Maggie shot back. “Should we all sit still and let them take whatever they want without fighting back? Do you wanna lose _all_ this?”    
She made a wide gesture around herself, knowing how much Gregory valued his belongings, while he couldn’t have cared less about the people in this town.    
        “We are willing to fight. For all we have, for all that we are, but we need to be prepared as good as we can so we will _win_ , too. No one’s expecting you to participate and help, but don’t stand in our way while we try to save your neck and your property.”

The elderly man stared at her with blazing eyes, but deep down inside he couldn’t help but agree with her. His neck and his property were sure worth saving and if they were all willing to do just that, he’d be a fool to try and stop them. As long as they didn’t ruin his precious carpets in the process.

        “You best make sure that the training and getting prepared doesn’t bring my house down before the war has even started.” 

        “I assume, this means ‘yes’?” Jesus asked cautiously, suppressing a sigh.

        “For Christ’s sake, if there’s no other way”, Gregory replied grumpily. 

The other three bit back any remark that was on the tip of their tongue.    
Rick got up, unable to be in the same room with that man any longer without shooting him after all. Gregory opened his mouth to remark that no one had been dismissed yet, when he saw the look in Rick’s eyes and quickly made a dismissive gesture with his hand.    
Rick’s features darkened visibly, so Maggie got up and placed a soothing hand on his arm once more. 

        “Come on”, she said gently, “it’s my turn to take lunch upstairs. Tell me what Daryl likes, huh?” 

She had his undevided attention instantly and smiled inwardly about that. _Daryl_ was a magic word as far as Rick was concerned. The moment he heard it, the sun seemed to break through and everything else around him was forgotten. 

        “We talk about the details later”, Maggie said to no one in particular, so Gregory was able to feel included, while she was in fact merely talking to the other three men. 

She would talk to Rick, Jesus and Richard in private later and set arrangement to have smaller groups live in the other communities in turns and train with them. It would be far quicker and more effective, if they settled the details without Gregory present, who wasn’t interested in them anyhow. 

As soon as they stood in the hall and the door to the study closed behind them, all four let out a breath of relief. 

        “Jesus!” Richard remarked, having the long-haired man cast him a questioning glance. “No, er, sorry – didn’t mean you.”

        “Yeah, I hear that a lot”, Jesus shrugged. 

That was the downside of calling himself Jesus – half of the day he felt addressed and yet was not. God, how he wished to hear Daryl call his name one day and the situation he pictured to that thought, instantly had him feel slightly guilty again.  
Rick was standing right next to him and he had sexual fantasies about his partner _again._ He really needed to get laid soon or he would never be able to take that coat off again. 

        “I would like to talk to you guys in private later”, Maggie said quietly. “We best talk about the details of our plan among ourselves.”   
No more words were needed. The three men caught on instantly.   
     “Let’s meet after lunch up in Glenn’s and my room. If you don’t mind him being here.”

        “Not at all”, Rick replied and looked questioningly at Richard and Jesus. 

        “Okay with me”, Richard said with a shrug, while Jesus just nodded.

        “Okay. I’ll see you later then. Rick?” 

She nodded towards the stairs to the kitchen and he understood. As did Richard and Jesus. Their ways parted and while Jesus and Richard left the Barrington House to take care of matters outside, Maggie and Rick headed to the kitchen.    
They walked down the stairs in silence, but when they reached the bottom and approached the kitchen, Maggie wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and gave him a gentle squeeze.

        “Don’t think about Gregory or the war now”, she said, almost certain that neither really had been on Rick’s mind at all. “We’re gonna cook up a storm now and perpare a meal Daryl just _has_ to remember. Something he really likes.” 

A smile appeared on Rick’s face.

        “That’s easy. He’ll eat everything you put before him. He isn’t picky, which was good when it was my turn to cook.” 

She giggled. 

        “I remember …” she trailed off, while he cast her a side glance in fake dismay. “But isn’t there something he likes best?” 

Rick shrugged.

        “Ordinary spaghetti with tomato sauce, believe it or not. And prepare yourself for quite a show when he eats them”, Rick answered with a grin. “Wish I could go with you and watch.” 

        “Now I’m curious”, she said with a smile.

        “Make sure Carol sits real close to him when he digs in”, Rick said with an evil glow in his eyes and it dawned on Maggie what scenario they were talking about.    
She laughed out loud. 

        “Gosh, I hope, you’ll never be cross with me”, she giggled. 

        “Just don’t bad-mouth or try to steal my man”, he said flatly. 

She gave him another squeeze, but didn’t reply to that.    
When they entered the kitchen, they found Tara sitting at the table sipping a still steaming cup of coffee. She looked up, when the two walked in and saw Maggie’s eyes almost drink in the coffee over the distance. With a grin she held the mug out to her and it was grapped eagerly, as though it was some elixier of life the young mommy-to-be wouldn’t last another five minutes without. 

        “That bad, huh?” Tara asked. 

        “You have no idea”, Maggie replied between two sips, before holding the cup out to Tara.  
                   
        “Keep it. I’ll get a new one. Rick?”

        “By all means. And make it a double”, he joked. 

        “You got it.” She got the largest mug available from the cabinet and started filling it up, while she asked: “So, Gregory’s been a pain again?”

        “Yup, that about boils it down. How did things go upstairs?” Rick ask, while he reached for the extended monster mug with a thankful nod. 

        “Carol’s been a pain, too. We should really have those two meet.”

        “Why?” Rick said sarcastically. “She already got a husband.” 

Ignoring the comment, Tara picked up again.

        “Save for Carol more or less kicking me out, I was lucky. She was in the shower when I got there, so I was able to talk to Daryl alone for a while.”

Excitingly she filled Maggie and Rick in on her conversation with Daryl and concluded:    
“He’s still in there, I know it! The way he moved his hands when I mentioned the crossbow or that he said that thing about Denise and Dennis being good names for a pair of twins – that’s no coincidence. We need to keep trying.”

“And we will”, Maggie replied. “Rick and I were gonna cook some spaghetti and it’s my turn to take them up. Beth’s song next.” 

“Are you up to it?” Rick asked her cautiously.

“You bet I am.”


	12. Chapter 12

An hour later Rick and Maggie headed up the stairs. He was carrying the tray for her, while she was balancing her baby bump and trying not to lose her footing, although she couldn’t even see her feet any longer.     
Panting heavily she stopped on top of the stairs and then remarked dryly:

    “Next time we need to find refuge anywhere, I want a house with an elevator.” 

He grinned at that.

    “I’ll see what I can do. Anything else?”  
      
    “Pool, sauna, hair dresser and a massage parlor should do for starters.” 

He was laughing now.

    “Oh good, I was afraid this would be difficult.” 

    “Nah, just the basics should do.” She winked at him and then reached for the tray. “Thanks. Keep your fingers crossed.”

That said she walked down the corridor and a moment later disappeared into the last room on the right. 

Apparently it was true what they say – as soon as one door closes, another one opens. In this case it was the second one to the left, when Rose came out of Jenna’s room the second Maggie had entered Daryl and Carol’s.    
She saw Rick standing in the corridor, looking kind of lost and approached him with compassion darkening her eyes once more.

    “How’s the ‘Operation Daryl’ going?” she ask on reaching him.

    “Okay”, he said softly. “Tara was in there this morning and she said there were signs that some memories are ready to surface. We just need to stick at it. Maggie just went in.” 

    “Good”, the elderly nurse replied. “I’ll go in later and threaten him to cut his hair while he’s sleeping. That should do the trick.” 

Rick couldn’t help laughing. 

    “So you’re trying shock therapy now?” 

    “Whatever it takes.” 

With a smile she cupped his cheek and then headed down the stairs without another word, leaving Rick behind in the corridor, praying for a miracle. 

 

    “Hey”, Maggie said while she closed the door behind her. “Brought you guys some lunch.” 

Carol was sitting in a chair by the window, trying to mend _Dennis’_ torn pants, while  Daryl was lying in bed just like Harlan and Rose had told him to.    
That concussion was severe and they had made clear that he needed to just lie down and rest for several days _at least._ And this wasn’t merely to keep him and Carol from leaving. They meant it. A head injury like that best was taken seriously, and with the headache he was still suffering, Daryl had no objections to being restricted to bed.

Carol gave Maggie a scrutiny and then pointed at her belly.

    “Everything okay with you and the little one?”

    “Yes, thanks. Early in the pregnancy there were problems, which is why I had to leave Alexandria and come here.” She placed the tray on the nightstand and then ran her hand tenderly over her belly. “Doctor Carson thought it best for me and Glenn to stay till the baby is born.” 

She tried to keep a straight face, while her eyes wandered between Carol and Daryl, hoping to see any reaction in his eyes when she mentioned Glenn or Alexandria. If there was, she missed it. 

    “Is it a boy or a girl?” he asked surprisingly.

    “Yes”, she joked mildly, before adding: “Harlan says, probably a boy, but I guess we won’t know for sure till it’s born.” 

    “Huh. Got any names picked yet?”

Out of the corners of her eyes, Maggie saw Carol frown and although she was tempted to just bring up several names that should be familiar to him, she refrained from it. It would be too obvious.

    “Not really. We thought we just wait to see whether we need a girl’s or a boy’s name and then decide. Got any ideas?”

He looked at her quietly for a moment, then said with a frown. 

    “Beth? Or Carl?”

Maggie heard Carol suck in the air, while she had to fight tears when Daryl mentioned Beth. Her watery eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

    “What _is_ the matter with you people? Ya’ll got allergies? That contageous or something?”   

The remark had a sad smile tug on the corners of Maggie’s mouth. 

    “I guess not. Got something in my eye, that’s all. Nice choice of names. I’ll keep them in mind.”

    “What’s yers?”

    “Oh”, she said apologetically, “sorry, I’m Maggie.”

    “No need ta be sorry. ‘s a pretty name”, he teased, bringing another frown to Carol’s face.

    “Thanks for the lunch, _Maggie_ ”, she cut in with a stern look, while Maggie still kept a straight face.

    “You’re welcome. It’s spaghetti. Home-made. We were lucky and found a pasta maker on a recent run and those spaghetti, I swear to God, are about the best you ever had. 

Daryl’s eyes lit up and he sat up, casting the tray an eager look.

    “Pasta maker”, he muttered. “Smells great. Ya made ‘em yerself?”

    “I had help”, she replied with a smile. “I hope you like spaghetti. Or would you rather have a casserole or something?”

“Hell, no”, he replied, which had Carol’s dark expression darken even more.    
“Ain’t got a clue what I like or not, but I gotta feelin’ that spaghetti is just ‘bout perfect. Is there tomato sauce, too?”

Maggie heard Carol gasp again, while her own eyes widened. Obviously he remembered that there’s supposed to be tomato sauce with spaghetti and that he liked them best that way. Yes, Daryl was definitely still in there.

    “Sure”, Maggie replied with a smile. “And I got you some grated Parmesan, too. _Don’t_ asked me where we found it or how old it is”, she giggled, “but it seems to be still good. I tried it. Or rather, Tara did. She’s my food taster these days.” 

She giggled again and then bent over the two plates on the tray and started applying some of the mentioned Parmesan on the first one, meanwhile softly humming a song.   
_ The  _ song.    
She saw Daryl lift his head and his body growing tense almost instantly, a frown spreading over his face as though he was concentrating real hard.    
Carol noticed it, too. And she recognized the melody. Almost hastily she stood and walked over to the bed.

    “Thank you”, she interruped Maggie, “no Parmesan for me, please. And I’m not sure Dennis likes it, either.”

    “Only one way to find out”, Maggie shrugged, looking Carol firmly in the eyes. “But suit yourself.”   
She clapped her hands once and then said:   
    “Ready. Hope you’ll enjoy it. Wanna sit down for your lunch, Carol?” 

Suppressing a smirk, she pointed to the spot next to Daryl and had to press her lips together, when she saw the older woman climb into bed next to her _husband,_ deliberately sitting as close as only possible.    
She handed them the two plates and two forks and then said:

    “I’ll leave you alone now. Harlan and Rose are gonna check in on you guys later. If there’s anything you need …”

    “We’re fine”, Carol said reservedly, “thank you.”

    “Take good care of Beth or Carl”, Daryl said softly. 

    “I will”, Maggie said with a smile. “What do you think of the name Hershel?”

    “ _Thank you_ , Maggie”, Carol insisted and her inflection was clearly a booting out. 

    “Yes, sorry, your spaghetti are getting cold. Enjoy.”

Smiling to herself she headed for the door. There had been a visible reaction on Darly’s face when she had said “Hershel” and she was convinced, that step by step they were making progress.    
The second she pulled the door close behind herself, she heard Carol shriek and hurried down the corridor as quickly as she could, so she wouldn’t hear her laugh.

 

Carol wasn’t dumb. Tara bringing them breakfast instead of Rose or another one of the Hilltop people had stirred her suspicion already, but now Maggie showing up and humming that song had made it obvious – they were up to something. Apparently this was a conspiracy to bring back Daryl’s memories and she’d be damned if she let that happen. If he remembered, she’d lose him. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.    
It was too late today, but as soon as dawn was breaking the next day, she was going to leave with Daryl. She couldn’t risk staying another day. And as of now, she would kick everybody out, who was from Alexandria, even if that meant no more meals for them till tomorrow morning. She didn’t care. They had survived on very little food for so long, that a skipped meal wasn’t going to kill them.    
Cursing under her breath, she wiped over her face and looked down at herself with an indignant air.    
Three months of living out in the woods lay behind them, of which the past one and a half had included mud, rain, hail and mist way too often for her liking. They had had little to none food and had to sleep on the cold and damp floor, with wet and moldy leaves as their only cover. And the moment they were finally _clean_ again, these people had to give Daryl Dixon spaghetti with tomato sauce. A massacre would have been tidy compared to how Daryl slurping that pasta and having the sauce splash all over the place had left their clothes and bed cover with stains.   
A loud, satisfied belch right next to her had her cast an indignant glance to the side, where she saw Daryl wipe his mouth on one sleeve of his shirt. 

    “Is that really necessary?” 

    “What?” he ask innocently.

She shook her head. What did she expect? Even his former self wouldn’t have known about table manners, so how was he supposed to know _now_ that he had lost his memory? 

    “Never mind. Listen, I think, we’ve been here long enough. We should leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

    “Leave? But the Doctor said ta stay at least a week. Ma head’s still hurtin’ and you and Jenna … “

    “We’re fine and I’m sure, they gonna give us some meds for you before we leave. We’ll take it easy, but you know that this Negan dude is probably still looking for Jenna. Staying here is dangerous for her. And for us.”

Daryl nodded hesitatingly. His headache was still splitting and he would have liked to stay, get some more rest in a place where they had something to eat every day and didn’t have to sleep out in the cold and rain. He was tired. He was hurting. He was scared out there. But Carol was the boss. She knew better. She was probably right. And they had to think of Jenna first.

    “’kay”, he said barely audible after a moment, “if ya think it’s best, we’re gonna leave tomorrow.”  

A satisfied glow came to her eyes and she was just about to lean back and enjoy the last hours in this warm and cosy bed, when Daryl sat bolt upright suddenly.    
There was music. It seemed to come from the square or maybe a room nearby, it was hard to tell. She didn’t know the song, but _he_ obviously did. He looked almost electified and his wide eyes were scanning the room as though he could make out the source of the music that way. 

    “I know that song”, he said breathlessly. “Heard it before. In a car …” He trailed off, lines of concentration on his face as he desperately tried to remember more. “There ‘s someone with me …”

She cursed inwardly and her eyes narrowed. 

    “I’ll go see, if I can find out what this is. Maybe we’ll know more then”, she offered and swung her legs out of bed.

    “Lemme go with ya?”

    “No.” The reply came too harsh and had him look at her in surprise, so she added softer. “You best stay and try to get some more rest, before we head out there tomorrow. Doctor’s orders, remember?” 

    “’kay. But lemme know what that music is, please.”

    “I see, what I can find out”, she said and then almost ran out of the room. 

The moment she was out in the corridor, she could instantly make out where the music came from. The room right next door. The one she used to stay in before.   
With large, energetic strides she headed over there and pushed the door open.   
It didn’t come as any surprise that Rick was in there, sitting in a chair by the window with his eyes firmly fixed on the door.

    “Turn that off right now!” she hissed at him.

    “Don’t like it?” he said challengingly. “Or does _Dennis_ like it too much?” 

    “Turn – it – off!”

    “Or what, Carol? What are you gonna do?”

    “I tell you what I’m gonna do. Leave. That is precisely what I’m gonna do. First thing tomorrow morning – or earlier, if you force me to. And I’m gonna take him with me.”

Rick jumped to his feet and stood with blazing eyes.

    “You can’t do that.”

          “Watch me! I can and I will, and if you don’t turn that off right now, we will leave within the hour.”

Rick stopped the CD player that was sitting on a coffee table next to him and breathed in deep, trying to still his frantically beating heart.

          “He’s got a concussion. And he’s all skin and bones. You can’t leave.”

          “You should have thought of that, before you started that charade. Do you think me a fool? Did you really believe, I wouldn’t noticed what you’re all trying to do here? Tara and Maggie and you. You’re trying to have him remember, but I won’t let that happen.”

          “Please”, Rick’s eyes were pleading now, “you’re right, we did. But I promise, we’ll stop. Just don’t take him away. He’s sick. He needs rest and medicine and food … “

          “And _you?”_

Rick’s eyes became shiny.

          “No. No, at this point he only needs you. I get that. I’ll stay clear of him, you’ve got my word. Just don’t leave.” After a second he added: “Please.”

          “So you can try again when he’s better? Or maybe that nurse or the doctor or anybody else can give it a shot?”

          “I said, you have my word …”

          “To hell with your word! That’s worth shit.”

          “You’re killing him!” Rick shouted the next moment, his hands balled to fists. Then he added, forcing himself to speak calmer:  
          “It’s cold and wet out there. He’s weak. You all are. You’re gonna catch pneumonia or starve or freeze do death over the winter.”

          “We’ll find a place.”

          “You haven’t been able to find one in three months. What makes you think you could stop running around in circles now? You don’t have a tracker.”

          “You will say anything to keep him here, won’t you, Rick?”

          “Just like you will keep making up reasons to leave, although there’s only one – your own selfishness.”

She laughed derisively.

          “Look who’s talking. You know that I’m all he’s got at this point and you’re trying to take that away from him, too.”

Rick’s eyes were glaring daggers her way.

          “He’s living a lie and you know it. I’m just trying to substitute the truth for all your lies, which would mean giving him more than I’d be taking away from him.”

          “The truth is dead, told you that before.”

          “No, it’s just sleeping. But it will wake up eventually. And you best have a good explanation when Dennis turns into Daryl again and he realizes what you’ve done.”

Carol’s eyes became hard as stone.

          “I wish Shane had killed you back then. Daryl would have been mine a long time ago.”

    “I wish I had killed _you_ , instead of just leaving you out there after what you did at the prison. Daryl is _mine_ , always has been, always will be, and without you he would remember it.”

    “Woulda, coulda, shoulda, Rick. But he doesn’t. And tomorrow you’ll see him for the last time in your life, I’ll make sure of that.”

She turned on her heels and left Rick behind in an empty room, to a mute CD player, with his hands balled to fists and feeling like he just lost a far more important war than the one against the Saviors. 


	13. Chapter 13

        “How did it go?”

Eagerly waiting Tara, Maggie, Glenn, Rose and Jesus turned to Rick the moment he entered the _operations center_ , commonly referred to as _the kitchen_.    
After their small, yet quite promising results earlier, they had high hopes that the special CD may be the breakthrough. Their faces fell, when they saw the defeated and devastated look in Rick’s eyes.  

         “The operation is off.”

          “What?”

Multiple voices called out instantly, then Maggie asked:

         “What happened? Didn’t it work?”

Rick shrugged.

         “I wouldn’t know. Maybe it worked too well. Thing is – Carol isn’t dumb. She got what we’re trying to do and she confronted me with it. Said they were gonna leave first thing tomorrow morning, no matter what, and if we kept _this_ up, they would even be gone within the hour.”

         “Now wait a minute!” Rose put her hands to her plump hips, while she flushed with anger. “No one’s leaving my care before I said so … before _Harlan_ said so”, she corrected hesitatingly. “Daryl’s got a severe concussion and the women have been … well, they all still need to rest and recover. They can’t be out there …”

         “Rose”, Rick stopped her rant and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, “you’re preaching to the choir. It’s Carol you need to convince.”

         “Like hell I will”, the nurse replied angrily. “Obviously there is no talking to that woman, but I’m gonna stop her. Mark my words. And if I have to stand sentry personally – that gate is not gonna get opened.”

         “She’ll find a way.”

         “Yeah, but only over my dead body.”

Rick bent down to her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, before he whispered into her ear:

         “She might go that far, if she has to.”

         “So what are we gonna do now?” Glenn asked cautiously. 

Swallowing hard against a lump in his throat, Rick let his eyes wander over his assembled friends.

         “I apprecitate all you tried to do”, he finally said wearily. “But I think, this is not really about Daryl any longer. Carol’s fighting her own personal war against me and Daryl is caught in the middle. I’m not gonna keep this up, if …”

         “Don’t tell me, you’re giving up!” Tara tossed in angrily. “We’re not giving up.”

         “I got no choice. We can’t stop her. Not in the long run.” He breathed in deep and then croaked out: “I’m afraid of what she might do, if we tried.”

         “What are you saying?” Maggie probed with wide eyes.

         “Like I said – she’s fighting a war against me and she isn’t going to lose it. She thinks I’m responsible for the loss of her family, her home, everything she held dear. She will do whatever it takes, so I won’t take Daryl away from her, too. I … Maybe … Even if that means …”

         “Woah, wait a second”, Tara cut in with plain shock on her face. “You’re not saying she’s gonna do the _‘If I can’t have him, ain’t nobody gonna have him’_ thing.” 

Helpless Rick shrugged again.

         “She might. After all, she’s willing to leave and put him through a life out there rather than staying here. And she doesn’t give a damn that he’s injured and totally not up to it. It’s like I said – apparently this is not really about him anymore.” 

The five others exchanged looks, before Jesus said:

         “There’s gotta be something we can do. You want me to try and talk to her?”

         “And say what?” Rose cast him a glance from the side. “She doesn’t even know you, so you can just as well talk to Mrs. Potts over there.”    
She waved in the direction of the tea pot on the stove.    
         “But maybe I’m gonna have our rolling pin do some talking up there.”

Her own comment sparked an idea and had her cover her mouth in shock a moment later. Rick followed her train of thought easily. He had had the same idea long before her.

         “I’ve been thinking about this myself”, he said to Rose softly. “If she wasn’t there anymore …” He trailed off and saw all eyes around him widen.   
         “Maybe I would have, but I can’t. Fact is, she is all Daryl’s got left. She is his anchor, the one person he’s relying on and he cares for her. Maybe he even loves her or thinks he does. Killing her would destroy him as well, so I need you to do me a favor …”   
His eyes got shiny all of a sudden.   
         “Help me support her. Help me find supplies for them – clothes, blankets, maybe sleeping bags, food, meds, a plastic sheet for cover … anything that may get them through the winter out there.”

He stopped as his voice failed him, his jaw muscles clenching visibly. 

         “You can’t be serious!” Glenn exclaimed. “Out there during the winter they won’t …”

         “You think I don’t know that?” Rick shouted at him, before repeating in a distraught inflection: “I know that.”

He fell quiet and hung his head, looking so lost that Tara couldn’t help but pull him into a tight embrace for a moment.    
She had been away when Denise died. There was nothing she could possibly have done to prevent her girlfriend’s death. But Rick just now … Whether there actually was a way or not, he must feel like he allowed Daryl to slip through his fingers and let fate just take over.    
The winters in Virginia were hard, with very low temperatures and lots of snow. There wouldn’t be any more nuts or berries to find and no one of that little group knew how to hunt effectively. Their death was a certainty. Rick could just as well have put a gun to Daryl’s head and pull the trigger, and that would have been even merciful. 

         “I’ll see what I can find”, Jesus said softly behind his back.    
He looked over his shoulder and listened out into the corridor for a moment, before adding:   
         “Make sure Gregory doesn’t know I’m giving them supplies.”

Tara let go of Rick and turned to him with wide eyes.

         “You mean, he would send them out there without _anything_?” 

         “Oh yes, he would”, Maggie tossed in with a scowl. 

Without any further word Jesus turned on his heels and headed out the door, while Rick sank heavily onto a chair and hid his face in his hands. _“Breathe”_ , he berated himself, _“just breathe”._ Maybe, if he concentrated on just that, he wouldn’t go insane right away.

         “It’s ironic”, he muttered, without lifting his head, “that _Carol_ accused _me_ of getting Daryl killed one day.” 

 

An hour later, a backpack slung over his shoulder, Rick slowly and quietly climbed the stairs to the second floor with his heart growing heavier with each step he took. Even the backpack seemed to weigh a ton all of a sudden, as though Jesus had packed bricks and not clothes, blankets, food and the requested plastic sheet.    
There were no sleeping bags anywhere throughout the Hilltop and they couldn’t spare any of the weapons, because Gregory had an inventory of those and kept track. The rest he didn’t give a damn about, as long as there was food on his plate, clean and preferably new clothes on his back and a warm and soft bed waiting for him every night. But the weapons needed to stay, so his people had all the ways and means to protect him and his property.    
Rick rested his right hand on the butt of his gun and set his jaw determinedly. He would give Daryl his own gun tomorrow morning, when they left. Even when that meant having to return home to Alexandria unarmed, he didn’t care. Daryl was the priority.    
When he reached the door to the most special room in the house, he had to take a few deep breaths to compose himself.    
After all they had been through since the apocalypse started, one would have thought the survivors to be tough by now, used to setbacks and blows of fate, so nothing should really faze them anymore. But as long as people were still just that, people, they had feelings, they had hopes, they had dreams – and they could be utterly shattered, if the one thing they loved most was taken away from them.  

Without knocking, Rick opened the door and simply barged into the room, to his dismay startling Daryl more than his _wife_. Standing at the window looking out, Carol whirled around on her heels and reached for the knife on her belt, while Daryl flinched violently and curled in on himself. Rick almost expected him to pull the covers over his head. 

         “Sorry”, Rick apologized in his direction, raising his hands soothingly, “I didn’t mean to …”

         “I told you before not to barge in here like that!” Carol snapped. “Whadda you want?” 

Rick let the backpack slip off his shoulder and gently set it onto the bed next to Daryl.

         “Since you’re leaving tomorrow”, he croaked out, “I asked Jesus to find you some supplies.” 

While Daryl looked pleasantly surprised, a suspicious frown appeared on Carol’s face. She walked over to the bed, pushed Rick out of the way and reached for the backpack.  
          
         “Lemme see that.” 

         “It’s just clothes, blankets, food, a plastic sheet for cover, some meds …” Rick summed up, but her icy glance had him fall quiet. 

         “I said, let me see that. I just wanna make sure there are no surprises in there.”

         “Like what, Carol? A poisonous snake?”

She cast him a glance that clearly said: _Wouldn’t put it past you._

         “Jesus?” Daryl asked with a smirk, while he struggled to sit up. 

         “His real name is Paul Rovia, but his friends just use to call him Jesus.” Rick chose his words delibetately matching Jesus’ own words back when they first met him. “Handsome, long-haired guy, blue eyes …”

         “Yeah, I wouldn’t ‘ve pictured a bald fat guy with glasses. – Tell him thanks for all a’ ‘em stuff.”

         “And things”, Rick muttered barely audible. 

Carol finished her inspection and cast the younger man a dark look. 

         “Yes, thank you very much”, she said sirupy. “If you’ll excuse us now. Long day ahead, so we’d like to get some sleep now.” 

         “Carol”, Daryl said meekly, “do we really have ta leave? Ma head’s still hurtin’ real bad and ‘s cold, we ain’t got no food …”

         “We do now, darling. Jesus got us supplies”, she said triumphantly, casting Rick a sneer. “And we talked about it. Why we can’t stay in one place for too long. We got warm sweaters now, blankets … We’ll find shelter. It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

         “I do.” 

Rick felt his heart hammer so hard against his ribs, that he almost feared it to break out of his ribcage any second. He had to get out of there or he may have killed her after all.   
Swallowing hard, he looked at Daryl, not even realizing that he was staring, lost in the blue depths he was seeing for maybe the last time.

         “Them allergies still givin’ ya troubles?” the archer asked sympathetically and only now Rick noticed that his sight had started to get blurry. 

He breathed in deep to compose himself. There was just no way he would let Carol see how much this farewell was hurting him. It felt impossible to tear his eyes away from Daryl, but Rick knew that he had to. Now.

         _“I love you.You have no idea how much.”_ The words urged to be said, but instead he croaked:   
         “Take care. It was nice meeting you, … Dennis _._ ” 

         “Likewise. – Oh, before I forget …”, Daryl turned to his nightstand and a moment later held Tara’s soda out to Rick. “Give that back to … what’s her name again?”

         “Tara.”

         “Right, Tara. Dunno, I don’t think, I’d like it and it’d be a pity ta open it for just a sip and then toss it. Maybe she’d like it back.”

Rick clenched his teeth for a moment. 

         “I’m sure she would.” 

The younger man took the can and just for a split second his fingers touched Daryl’s gently, before the hand was pulled back. 

         “Be seeing you”, he just said without even casting Carol another look.

         “In your dreams”, he heard her say behind his back, while he left the room as quickly as he could without letting his haste show. 

Out in the corridor he slumped down with his back against the wall, when his knees suddenly buckled. For a moment he just sat there, breathing fitfully in the attempt to suppress the sobs in his throat. He rested his arms on his drawn up knees and hid his face, still securily holding on to Tara’s _pop_.    
A soda. That sure didn’t seem to be a lot, but it was more than he had left of Daryl now. Which was nothing at all, nothing but a pile of dirty rags and a torturing number of memories. 

 

Rick had no idea how long he had been sitting in the corridor, outside of _their_ room, when soft footsteps approaching startled him. Reluctantly he lifted his head and saw Jesus standing in front of him, casting him a compassionate look. 

         “That seat taken?” he asked gently, gesturing to the spot next to Rick.

The question had the corners of Rick’s mouth twitch for a second, but they never made it to a full smile.

         “Be my guest”, he just answered lethargically.

         “Sorry, I couldn’t do more than find those supplies”, Jesus said gently after he had lowered himself to Rick’s side.  

         “That was a lot. Thank you.”

They sat silently shoulder to shoulder for a moment, then Paul said unexpectedly:   
         “I’d go with them and try to protect them, but I guess she wouldn’t let me.”

Rick turned his head and gave him a surprised look, while Jesus was unable to meet his eyes.    
Why did he even say that? It was the truth. He had been thinking about offering to accompany Daryl, Carol and Jenna the next day, but not primarily because he was concerned about their safety. He wasn’t fooling himself anymore. He _did_ have a serious crush on Daryl and if Carol got lucky, why shouldn’t he give it a try, too?    
         The mere fact that Carol was the only person the archer remembered, relied on and trusted, didn’t change the fact that he was gay. Simple as that. Even if the little wife there chose to delude herself, she was fighting a lost cause. Jesus hadn’t dared question Harlan about it, but could a man in all earnest forget that he liked dicks? Doubtful. Opportunity makes a thief, as they say. And tempted enough on cold, dark winter nights, Daryl may have remembed some essential details of his former life after all.    
         Jesus had berated himself for quite a while, but it all came down to one thing: He was one lonesome guy and for a lay with that man, he would even spend the winter out in the woods. 

         “Is it true?” Rick asked suddenly, giving him a scrutiny from the side.

         “Is what true?” Jesus replied, his voice suspiciously high-pitched to his own dismay.

         “Do you have a crush on Daryl?”

Jesus sighed deeply. Damn, he was obviously far more predictable than he had thought.

         “Does it matter? Unlike other people, I accept it when someone’s taken”, he lied. “He’s your man, Rick.”

         “He was”, Rick choked out.

         “He _is_.” Why did he say _that_ now? 

He cast a look to the side, where Rick sat unmoving with an idle glance, and gave Alexandria’s leader a scrutiny. What did Daryl see in him at all?   
Rick sure was one good-looking guy, but he wasn’t really Jesus’ type. In comparison to Daryl, Rick was a meager five on a scale of 1 to 10. Those girly curls were a total turnoff and his overall appearance was too soft, too fragile. His fingers were long and elegant and as soft as a woman’s, unlike Daryl’s larger, callused hands. Rick’s shoulders weren’t nearly as broad as the archer’s, he wasn’t as muscular – gosh, Daryl’s arms were to die for - and he was too thin. Daryl wasn’t fat, but more solid, definitely manlier. Rick just had to be the female half of that couple.    
Although Rick and Daryl were exactly the same height, Daryl appeared bigger.    
         _“And he’s probably_ bigger _in all respects”,_ Jesus couldn’t help thinking.   
With a sigh he pulled the coat closer around himself once again.

         “You’re cold?” Rick asked.

Inwardly Jesus rolled his eyes.

         “Yeah. Happens a lot lately.”

For a moment they sat in silence, then Rick said:

         “I always wondered what he saw in me.” 

Rick’s words derailed Paul’s train of thought and had him cast the other man a surprised sideglance. 

“Daryl …”, Rick continued, “once you got to know him, it’s easy to see why people love him. He’s got a heart of gold. But I … I’m not a very lovable person. Lori, my late wife, she used to say I had an ego the size of the Empire State and she was right, I guess. But when it counts, I’m weak. I let Negan take over and enslave an entire town, and now I can’t even protect Daryl … from _Carol._ ”

            “You’re not weak. Sometimes it’s necessary to lose a battle in order to win the war. Nobody who’s able to see their own deficiancies and admit them, is ever weak. Gregory is. He’s a coward, but thinks the world of himself, which is a dangerous combination. He’s never gonna stand his ground and he would sell his own mother if there was something in it for himself. Why he’s still at the helm, is beyond me. But I know why you are.”

Rick gave a derisive snort.  

“I cannot even win a personal war over the most important person in my life.” 

“But you did. Letting him go was the only option and the right decision. If you had told him the truth or killed her, it would have destroyed Daryl.”

“ _ This _ will do, too.”

“Don’t write him off just yet. You all said he was still in there and he may remember in time. And when he does, he’s gonna know who’s been thinking of him, and who decided selfishly in their own interest. He’ll remember your heart, Rick.”

“Hopefully before she gets him killed.”

A thoughtful air spread over Jesus’ face and a moment later he asked:

         “What do  _ you _ see in  _ him _ ?”

         “Like I said, he’s got a heart of gold. He’s loyal and caring, reliable, brave, honest and the most selfless man I’ve ever met. And he loves my kids.  _ Our  _ kids.”

Jesus waited patiently, expecting Rick to say more, but the older man kept quiet. Not a word about strong muscles, broad shoulders, mesmerizing eyes or being a good lay. Rick was obviously very discreet or, and that thought actually stunned Jesus, the things  _ he _ would have summed up didn’t really matter to Rick at all. He may have appreciated them, but he would probabyl have loved Daryl just the same, if that heart of gold was inside of a short, bald, fat guy with glasses.   
Before the apocalypse, Jesus didn’t have any problems getting involved. Looking the way he did, he had always had men and women alike draw numbers to meet him, but to call any of those encounters a  _ relationship _ was like calling a sandwich a meal. It merely scratched the surface and was anything but fulfiling in the long run. He had never seen anyone for longer than a few weeks and had avoided the investment of honest and deep emotions. Apparently, he didn’t have a clue what the essence of a relationship was. What was really important and what a mere treat. 

He nudged Rick’s shoulder with his own and said:

“Go to bed, Rick, and try to get some sleep. Carol’s probably gonna urge for them to leave at the break of dawn, or even earlier. And I know you wanna see him off.”

         “Don’t know if I can”, came the weak reply.

         “Still, you’re gonna be there”, Jesus replied softly. 

He got up and held out his hand to pull Rick off the floor. Hesitatingly the older man stood in front of him for a moment, then he just said “Thanks” before walking down the corridor. To wish a “good night” would have been ironic.  
         Jesus watched him walk away with drooping shoulders, his head hanging and his motions feeble – the complete picture of defeat. And the  _ real  _ war hadn’t even started yet. If this was what loving someone could do to a man, then maybe it was a wise decision to not get emotionally involved. And still, deep down inside Jesus envied Rick.    


	14. Chapter 14

Hours later Rick sat bolt upright in his bed and stared into the twilight of his room. It was still dark outside. The darkest hour before the dawn.   
He had tried to stay awake, had fought sleep for hours, but in the end he had lost another battle that day and fatigue had won out.   
After he had left Jesus standing in the second floor corridor, he had run into Rose on the stairs up to his room. She had assured him, that Harlan would do his best to convince Carol to stay, simply because neither of the three were well enough to leave yet. Rick had known this to be a waste of time before the Doctor had even tried, but he hadn’t said a word.   
Rose had promised Rick to have a sentry posted down in the hall, who would wake him the moment Daryl, Carol and Jenna were leaving. She had meant well, but nothing anybody did or said would have been able to make Rick feel better, because it just didn’t change the fact that he was about to lose the love of his life. Simple as that.  
He rubbed his hands over stinging eyes and swung his legs out of bed. Something had woken him, but it hadn’t been the sentry. He thought he heard voices from the square, saw flickering lights outside, running feet somewhere in the house and then, as he stood to take a look out of the window, a bell was rung accompanied by someone yelling:

      “Saviors!”

In a split second he was over at the window and looked outside, just in time to see Kal open the gate to a group of about twenty-five men. They walked onto the square by the light of several lit torches and were visibly amused by the fact, that they had startled the inhabitants of this town out of their sleep.   
This at least answered the question, whether those bastards were working 9 to 5 or infested the entire area even at night. They were there, everywhere and at any given time.   
When his eyes had adjusted well enough, Rick was able to make out details even over the distance and felt like being punched to the guts when he recognized the leader of that group. Simon. Negan’s right-hand man. He would have recognized him anywhere.   
On their way to the Hilltop back then, when they had taken Maggie to the doctor’s, they had run into Simon and his men repeatedly. He had blocked the road, threatened them, had tortured and hung a man right before their eyes and he’d been there at the line-up, almost literally breathing down their necks all the time. Rick hated that man almost more than he hated Negan.   
The leader of the Saviors was the center, the source, a fixed star – he was probably unable to be anything other than what he was. But those who circled around him and  _ chose _ to be like that, who knew what Negan did and still followed his example and believed in his ways, those were even worse. And Simon was one of them. 

The next moment the door behind him was pushed open and had Rick whirl around on his heels, cursing under his breath for not having his gun on him yet. He had been sleeping in his clothes, so he’d be able to hurry downstairs quickly when Rose’s sentry alerted him, but  _ this _ he had not calculated.   
He let out his breath in relief when the lights lit up and he saw Jesus standing in the doorway.

      “Rick! Hurry. They can’t see you here.”

With a frown, Rick hurried over to the nightstand and reached for his gun belt. 

      “Why not? They know, who I am.”

      “Exactly. The Kingdom fighters are down on the square – they’ve already seen them. Now Ezekiel’s right-hand man  _ and  _ the leader of Alexandria are here at the same time … Simon’s not a fool. He’ll get suspicious and if he does Gregory is gonna sell out whoever he has to if that saves his neck.”

Rick locked eyes with the younger man for a second.

“Daryl!”

He ran past Jesus out into the corridor and headed for the stairs, the sound of running feet in fierce pursuit right behind him.

      “Hold up!” Jesus called out to him. “I gotta hide you. There’s no time …”

      “Simon knows Daryl. They know he is  _ my _ right-hand man, so them seeing him endangers the mission just as well. And him. We gotta get him.” 

They reached the second floor and ran down the corridor side by side.

      “Whatta you gonna say to him? You can’t just barge in there going ‘Did you know you were my right-hand man in Alexandria before you lost your memory? And the Saviors won’t appreciate finding us here, so you gotta hide in a closet’.”

Before Rick even had time to answer, a door to the left opened and a woman with long red hair came running out and with a shriek disappeared into the room they were headed for.

      “They’ve found us!” the two men heard her scream hysterically. “They’re gonna take me back to him. Dennis! Get up. We gotta leave. Now! Carol!!”

      “Be quiet!” Carol’s angry voice chided her. “With you yelling like that, half of the county will know we’re here.”  

      “But we gotta go! Hurry. We need to get out of here.”

      “They’re already through the gate”, Jesus said calmly when he and Rick appeared in the doorway. “Too late to leave.”

Someone banging on the front door of the Barrington House had Jenna jump.

      “Knock-knock!” Simon’s voice sounded from outside.

      “Who’s there?” the sentry Rose stationed in the hall dared answer. Was that Andy? They couldn’t tell for sure.

A shot rang out, followed by people screaming, while Jenna started shaking like aspen leaf, clinging to the now standing Daryl like a drowning person to a piece of driftwood.

      “Anybody else wanna be a comedian around here?” Simon’s sneering voice sounded again. “Open the fucking door!  _ Now _ .”

Jesus cast a quick look at the four people standing next to him, fear clearly depicted in their eyes, and signaled them to follow him.

      “C’mom, quickly. There may be a way out of here, but we gotta get down to the basement before that door opens.”

Quick-thinking Carol grapped the backpack with their supplies and together they hurried down the corridor as quickly as possible. Reaching the top of the stairs, they peeked down into the hall, relieved to see the door still closed.   
Jenna was barely able to get her shaking knees to function and looked close to a nervous breakdown, while Daryl’s face was distorted by pain. With each step he felt as though someone was sticking daggers into his brain and he panted heavily to fight the nausea this caused.   
There were footsteps down in the entrance hall and a second later Richard came into sight.

      “Richard!” Jesus whispered down to the Kingdom man as loudly as he dared. “Wait!”

Not Andy. Jesus was torn between amusement and awe that Rose Mitchell had in all earnest  _ convinced  _ Richard, King Ezekiel’s right-hand man, to  _ stand sentry  _ for her _.  _ That woman would never cease to amaze him. Hopefully Richard’s defiance and cocky reply hadn’t caused someone’s death out there. 

      “On my way!” Richard called to the door, while he cast a questioning look to the group on top of the stairs.

Jesus gestured him to keep the door closed for another moment, while he lead the others down the stairs as quietly as only possible. 

      “Damn, the lock is jammed!” Richard shouted to Simon through the door, fumbling with the lock in no attempt to open it, while he watched one by one cross the hall and hurry through a door to the back stairs that led into the basement. 

      “Thanks, man”, Daryl croaked out.

He had to lean on Carol for support, stumbling rather than walking and she almost dragged him towards the stairs.   
The moment they were out of sight, Richard pulled the door open and got a rough shove to his chest instantly, having him stumble backwards. 

      “About time!” Simon bellowed.

The Saviors piled into the hall and stood in a circle around Richard a moment later. 

      “Anything I can do for you, gentlemen?” Richard said friendly, but in no way submissively. 

      “We’ll see. Where’s Gregory?”

      “I’m here”, a weak voice was heard from the door of the study, as the leader of the Hillltop made a hesitant appearance. “You’re early for your weekly call.”

      “Greg, my man”, Simon exclaimed enthusiastically, while he approached the older man. “We ain’t here for the veggies. Negan’s missing some  _ items _ that belong to him. In fact, we’re dealing with a fucking orange situation at the Sanctuary and you know how the boss is – he takes that shit quite personal. People spurning his hospitality and leaving without even saying good bye, now that’s not nice.” 

Gregory looked up to the taller man with a fearfully faked smile.

      “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”  
       
      “Oh, I believe it. I really do. There’s probably a helluva lot you know nothing about. Which is exactly the problem around here. Are you in charge of this town or not?”

      “Of course, I am.”

      “Well, then you should know whether you’re currently having  _ guests _ here or not. Right?” 

Gregory grew as pale as a sheet, which had the suspicious look on Simon’s face increase. 

      “Now, what does that silence mean, Greg? You ain’t having any guests or you don’t  _ know,  _ whether you’re having any?” 

      “He’s having any”, Richard cut in. “I don’t think, we’ve met.” 

He extended his hand in greeting, but the gesture was ignored. Unfazed he continued after lowering his arm: “I’m Richard, King Ezekiel’s right-hand man. My men and I, we’re from the Kingdom and were welcomed to stay for a few days.” 

      “That so?” Simon said with a sneer. “And what are people from the Kingdom doing in this part of the county? You’re far out.” 

      “The Kingdom and the Hilltop have been dealing with each other for a long time, you know that. We help each other, which is for your benefit, too.”

Simon gave him a scrutiny.

      “And the King’s sending his right-hand man to do negotiations about tomatoes and pumpkins?”

      “No”, Richard answered with a straight face, “actually it was about potatoes and apples.” 

      “Don’t try to shit me”, Simon growled, while his face got threatingly close to Richard’s. The Kingdom man didn’t even flinch. 

      “Not shitting anyone. We got tomatoes and pumpkins ourselves, but this year’s harvest for …”

      “Shut up. Ain’t interested in your veggies and fruits.” He turned to Gregory once more. “What I  _ am  _ interested in, is a pretty ginger called Jenna, her baby brother and their grandpa. Now, we did find the boy and the old lad a few miles back and followed a trail of horse shit right to your gate, Gregory.”

      “Yeah, the horse shit – I’m afraid, that was us”, Richard replied in Gregory’s stead. “We heard screams and tried to help, but when we got there, we only found the boy and the old man. They were dead. There was no girl and no one else still in the area.” 

Simon took a step closer to him and tapped his index finger against Richard’s chest.

      “You keep talking, although I didn’t ask you, horse's ass. Next time you speak without being spoken to, I’m afraid, I’ll have to knock your teeth in.”   
With a nod he turned around to Gregory once again.   
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, Negan’s property. Why don’t we go into your study and continue our little chit-chat there? It’s getting quite claustrophobic here in the hall, don’t you think?”

He placed a chummy arm around Gregory’s shoulders and dragged him along over to the study. Before they disappeared into the room, he called over his shoulder:

      “Go take a look around this place and see, if you can find anything … or  _ anyone  _ of interest.” 

Richard watched Gregory’s eyes grow large and sweat breaking out on the man’s forehead and cursed under his breath. He was going to cave in every minute and admit to  _ having guests.  _ Which was bad news in itself, but Richard dreaded to imagine what the Saviors were going to do if they did not find said guests here anymore. The moment the hall had cleared and Simon’s men were headed upstairs and outside to search the trailers, Richard hurried to the second flight of stairs that led into the basement, thankful for the fact that so far no one expected  _ guests  _ to be down there. But they would, if they couldn’t find them upstairs or in the trailers. He started running, taking two steps at a time. 

 

      “Where are we going?” Carol just insisted on knowing for the second time. “The basement is a trap. What the heck are we doing down here?”

With his hand held up, Jesus stopped the small group and looked from one to the other. 

      “Listen, there is a secret passageway from the wine cellar out into the woods.”

      “You’re shitting us, right?” Carol replied. “Secret passageway …”

      “If you had to deal with Gregory on a daily base, you’d believe it right away”, Jesus said with a sigh. “The man’s a coward and the most selfish bastard on the planet. Few months back he ate our supply of antibiotics like candy, although others needed them more urgently.” He cast Daryl a look. “And he had that tunnel dug in case the Hilltop gets overrun by walkers. That was even before the Saviors.”

      “Good thought actually”, Rick tossed in. 

      “It would be,  _ if  _ it was intended to save everybody living here. But he just told me the other day to make sure the doors were locked and barricaded, if that ever happened, because he does not intend to  _ get stuck in  _ his _ tunnel behind old fossils like Mrs. Fisher and fat people like Rose. _ ” 

Fury sparked up in Rick’s eyes, but before he could even answer, Jenna tugged eagerly on Jesus’ sleeve. 

      “Let’s go already. Where is that passageway?”

      “This way.”

Jesus took the lead again and explained, while they were hurrying towards the wine cellar:

      “It’s not too long. Just runs underneath the wall and comes out in a pit about 100 feet behind it. Still quite close, I know, but the exit is well hidden by brush. Unless they have surrounded the entire town, you should be able to get away.”

He opened a door and led them into a cool, dusty cellar room with plain brick walls and a low, curved ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, all of them empty now, and a few huge barrels stood against the back wall.   
Jesus was just about to lead them further into the room, when they were alarmed by quickly approaching footsteps.

      “Damn!” Rick muttered under his breath, drawing his gun instantly. “Hide.”

      “Jesus?” Richard whispered as loudly as he dared, the familiar voice having the five people in the wine cellar gasp in relief. 

Jesus opened the door a crack and Richard slipped through the gap quickly.

      “You better come with me quickly”, he addressed the long-haired man. “Gregory is gonna cave in any second, if he hasn’t already. They are looking for the young lady there.”   
He nodded in Jenna’s direction and the woman started shaking visibly again, frantically looking around herself for the exit.  
      “They are searching the house. Won’t be much longer till they gonna find the stairs down here and come looking.”

      “We need to get out”, Jenna tugged on Jesus sleeve again. “Where’s the exit?” 

She sounded panicky.

Jesus hurried to the back of the room and stopped in front of one of the huge barrels. They were lying on their side, their top facing the room and with one jerk the young man pulled the lid off of one of them. When Rick peeked inside, he saw that the backside was missing and the barrel conceiled the entrance to a tunnel.   
Jesus retrieved two flashlights that had been sitting on a shelf to the side and held one out to Rick and one to Carol.       

      “Good luck.”

      “You, too”, Rick said sincerely.

      “Oh, wait”, Jesus pulled a gun out of his waistband and held it out to Daryl. “Here, best take that with you.”

The archer made a dismissive gesture and nodded to his side.

      “Nah, give it ta Carol. I can barely look straight and I’m a lousy shot.” 

      “No, you’re ….” Jesus almost slipped, before he noticed Rick’s warning glance. “Your call”, the longhaired man just said in the end and handed the gun to Carol. 

Before either one could stop her, Jenna suddenly brushed past them and disappeared into the tunnel, although it was totally dark in there and she wasn’t able to see her hand before her face. She didn’t mind. All she could think of was flight. 

      “Thank you”, Carol said quickly, while Daryl nodded to Jesus.

      “You’re welcome. And I mean it. You can come back any time you like”, he said friendy, letting his eyes rest on Daryl’s face that moment longer. 

      “No offense”, Carol replied for both of them, the way she had done all that time, “but this place sucks.”

She made a sweeping gesture with her hand and prompted a smile on Jesus’ face.

      “No offense taken”, he replied, “I’m inclined to agree.” 

After she and Daryl had disappeared into the tunnel as well, Rick let his eyes wander between Richard and Jesus for a moment, when he suddenly tensed.

      “Tara!”

      “Don’t worry about her”, Jesus said soothingly. “They don’t know, she’s from Alexandria. Today she’s one of us. I’m gonna fill her in and look after her.”

This had Rick smile despite himself.

      “ _ She’s _ gonna look after  _ you _ , believe me. But thanks anyway. I’ll be back later.”

With that, he turned on his heels and headed into the tunnel as well, hurrying after the others as quickly as only possible.  
It wasn’t difficult to catch up with Carol and Daryl. The archer was doing his best to keep moving and not be a burden, but he was swaying and his steps were shaky, while he leaned on Carol heavily.   
Rick gritted his teeth while he approached them. He saw Carol cast him a quick glance, before looking away again. She  _ knew  _ what he was thinking. How were they supposed to make it out there, if Daryl could barely stand? And although she tried to hide it, her expression showed all too clearly that she had had the same thought.  
The light of Carol’s flashlight illuminated the tunnel enough to see a shaking Jenna waiting for them about 9 feet ahead. She hadn’t dared to go any further in total darkness, which was a wise decision. It was unlikely for walkers to be down here, but the chance was there.

      “Can’t you move faster?” she urged, casting an unnerved look at Daryl. “Sorry, Dennis, I know you got a concussion, but they gonna catch up to us.”

      “’m tryin’”, Daryl replied in a strained voice, closing his eyes for a second, when a new wave of nausea and dizziness washed over him.

Jenna came back towards them and gave him a look. Suddenly she snatched the flashlight from Carol’s hand and ran off with the remark “Not good enough, sorry”. 

      “Wait!” Rick shouted after her in an impulse, which had Carol cast him a scowl.

      “Why don’t you yell a little louder, so they all know we’re down here?” 

      “Stop her!” Daryl croaked. “She’s … she’s just gonna run out there.” He breathed labored a few times. “May get herself killed. And give us away.” 

      “Damn”, Carol cursed under her breath, casting Rick a glance. “Well?”

      “Carol, be reasonable.” He pointed at Daryl. “He’s too heavy for you. You can’t support him much longer and at this pace, we’re not going anywhere.” He held his light out to her. “Here, go get Jenna. I’ll help him.”

Her eyes grew narrow.

      “Nice try.”

      “He’s right”, Daryl said flatly. “Ya quicker without me, so go get her already.” He cast Carol a weak smile.   
“Ain’t runnin’ off with him”, he added in the uncharacteristic attempt to joke, unaware that the other two didn’t feel like laughing about this remark at all. In fact, they both felt like they’d been punched in the guts.

Carol snorted annoyed and cast Rick a warning glance, while she snatched the flashlight from his hand. Then she ran down the tunnel after Jenna, leaving the two men in total darkness.  
The moment she had let go, Rick had slipped his arm around Daryl’s waist and pulled him close, while the archer on his part had wrapped his arm around Rick’s shoulder. Unseen to the older man, Rick closed his eyes for a moment and just  _ felt.  _ Felt the familiar body pressed close to his, felt the warmth radiate and one or the other of Daryl’s long strands of hair tickle his cheek.   
All he had to do was turn his head a little and he would be kissing him. The urge to do just that was overwhelming.   
In another time, in another place, Daryl would probably have pushed him up against a wall by now, kissing him ardently, while his hands were all over him. Around Rick, Daryl wasn’t shy and it was clearly him leading during their lovemaking. A role reversal they both enjoyed – Daryl wasn’t the type to lead, but in private, just between him and Rick he was confident to be in charge. And Rick indulged in the moments when he could just let go, not think, not decide, not command, just feel. 

      “Yer alright?” Daryl’s voice pulled him back into the here and now.

      “Sure.” He sighed inwardly, then tightened his hold around Daryl’s waist and prompted him to start walking again. 

They took a few steps down the tunnel and Rick heard Daryl let out a relieved sigh. With the stronger support, it was easier for him to keep his balance and they were considerably faster than before. 

      “How are you gonna manage out there?” Rick asked cautiously.

For a moment there was just silence, then Daryl answered in a low voice:

      “Dunno. But we ain’t got no choice now.”

      “We could all come back here when the Saviors are gone, so you can recover before you head out there. Or you could come to Alexandria with Tara and me.”

There was a pause again, then Daryl said with a sigh.

      “Can’t. Carol’s right – we can’t stay in one place for long. They’re lookin’ for Jenna and we put this place in danger bein’ here. Ain’t gonna endanger yer home, too.” 

Rick swallowed thickly against a lump in his throat.

      “But if they find you out there, you won’t stand a chance. And those bastards you ran into a few days back .. . they’re still out there, too.”

      “I know. But that’s our problem. Don’t make it yers. Jen’s one of us. We ain’t leavin’ no one behind. And we ain’t gonna put anyone else in danger.”

Rick was grateful for the darkness when tears welled in his eyes suddenly. This just now sounded so much like Daryl that it hurt. 

          _“You_ are _still in there, Daryl Dixon”,_ he couldn’t help thinking, mustering all his willpower to refrain from giving the other man a hug. 

      “Just now you sounded like someone I used to know”, Rick croaked out.

      “Yeah? ‘s that good or bad?” 

      “Good”, Rick answered, his voice thick with emotions. “I loved him very much.”

      “Oh. ‘s he dead?”

      “He’s just gone. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back.”

      “Sorry, man. – Don’t lose hope. Maybe he’ll turn up one day.”

      “Maybe.”

They saw lights ahead and a moment later approached the two women, who were waiting for them by the exit. Carol held on to Jenna’s wrists with all her might and could barely refrain from shaking her. The young woman was apparently about to go into hysterics again and Carol looked her sternly in the eyes.

      “Be quiet, for crying out loud! The Saviors could be right outside. Or walkers. Or those bastards who killed your brother and grandpa.”

This had Jenna freeze and just stare at her with wide eyes. When she noticed a movement down in the corridor, Carol looked up and watched Rick and Daryl approach them. Her expression darkened visibly, when she saw them with their arms around each other, before she berated herself quietly. Rick had to hold Daryl close in order to support him, there was no other way.   
She couldn’t even blame him for trying to awaken Daryl’s memory these past days and she could see why the others had helped him. What she did was … wrong?   
She frowned.  
Was it really wrong to give a man without any memories a past, a name, a direction, some security and thus a future? It wasn’t all a lie. She did love him. Always had. Long before Rick Grimes. And when she had found him, he’d been as alone as she was. No, it wasn’t wrong. Questionable maybe, but she didn’t have a choice really. There was no way she could have taken him back to Alexandria. That place lay in the past for her – she would never go there again.   
Just like they couldn’t stay in the Hilltop. The fact that Jenna was Negan’s  _ property, _ would endanger every community and she had left Alexandria for a reason. She had no intention of starting over in the Hilltop or any other community, just to end up being forced to kill for the people there one day. Moving forward was the only option. They needed to get as far away from this part of the country as only possible. Away from the Saviors, Alexandria, the Hilltop, the Kingdom and Rick Grimes. Just her and Daryl and Jenna by themselves somewhere – this could work. It had to, because there was no alternative.   
Her lips became a thin line, when she looked over to Daryl. Rick was right, she knew he was. Rick, as well as Rose and Harlan and practically everyone who had told her that Daryl was in no condition to be out there. Just like Jenna. But they had run out of choices, so forward was the only way to go now. There was no looking back.

      “Seems to be quiet out there”, she said to Rick and Daryl, when they stopped next to the women. 

Rick nodded wordlessly and cast a look outside. All he could make out was the bushes and scrub that hid the exit and through the leaves he saw the sides of the pit. 

      “I’ll go check the surroundings”, he said. “You best wait here.”

Reluctantly he loosened his grip around Daryl’s waist and with a moan the older man slumped to the ground, pressing his hands to his temples instantly. Carol crouched in front of him and ran a hand tenderly over his hair.

      “I’m sorry, darling.” 

      “’s okay”, he replied through gritted teeth. “Not yer fault.” 

She could feel Rick’s eyes burn a hole into the back of her head. For the petname calling as well as the debatable question of responsibilty.   
When she dared turn her head, Rick wasn’t there anymore. He had silently and cautiously left the tunnel and was slowly crawling up one side of the pit, his gun drawn.           


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's _pit_ s mentioned in this chapter and I'd like you to imagine them a little like the thing Tara was hiding in in 7x6, when she was running from Beatrice and Kathy.  
> A 'big hole' in the ground, about 9 feet/3 meters in diameter and 6-9 feet/2-3 meters deep. Okay?

“Simon”, Jesus greeted the Savior when he entered Gregory’s study, “you’re early this week.”

     “Jesus, you startled me.” Simon called out, grinning about the bad pun. He never grew tired of making fun of Paul’s nickname. “Gregory and I were just having a little chit-chat, but maybe he’s not the man to talk to. 

Before Jesus could answer, Maggie showed up in the doorway behind him, carrying a tray with several steaming mugs. 

     “Tea?” she asked sweetly, walking over to Simon and Gregory.

     “My, my, what a service!” Simon grinned and got up to meet her. “Don’t mind, if I do.”

He picked up two of the mugs and held one out to Gregory.

     “Hell, no”, the older man slipped, before adding: “I rather decline. The tea didn’t agree with me the other day.”

     “How entirely rude”, Simon chided. “Now this lovely and clearly expecting lady went to the trouble of preparing this for us and you’re saying ‘no’?”   
His smile vanished.   
“Drink it!”  
He turned to Jesus.  
     “You, too.“

With a smile, Jesus answered:   
     “I already had some down in the kitchen, thanks.”

Simon just shrugged and left it alone, which prompted an expression of protest on Gregory’s face he didn’t dare voice, while both Jesus and Maggie suppressed a laugh. 

     “I was just explaining to Gregory here, that we are missing a lovely, redhaired lady named Jenna in our community, along with her brother and good old poppy. And Negan sent me out to see if maybe they turned up on your doorstep. Now, does the Hilltop have guests currently?”

Behind Simon’s back, Jesus saw Gregory grow even paler than he already was, ready to open his mouth, when the young man answered quickly:

     “We do, but I’m afraid a redhaired lady, a boy and a grandpa ain’t among them. We got people from the Kingdom here, that’s all.”

     “Huh”, giving him a scrutiny, Simon took a sip from his tea and cast a questioning glance to Maggie, when she giggled despite herself.

     “Wanna fill us in on the reason for your amusement?”

     “Oh, that’s just the hormons”, Maggie answered with a shrug. 

     “You look familiar.” He took a step closer to her. “Weren’t you with that group from Alexandria, when Negan lucilled that black bitch a couple of months back?” 

Maggie’s smile simply dropped off her face.

     “Her name was Michonne. And, yes, I was there. We were on our way to the Hilltop back then.” She pointed at her belly. “Quite obvious why.”

     “So”, Simon turned to Jesus. “You just said the only guests you’re having, were those dudes from the Kingdom. Now there’s at least one more that just turned up and she’s from Alexandria. If I was to take a look around, would I find any more?”

Jesus looked at him calmly, while Gregory was holding on to his tea cup so crushingly that his knuckles turned white. 

     “Maggie’s husband is here, too, but they aren’t guests. They have been here for months and now they are a part of this community. But if it makes you feel better, take a look around and see for yourself.”

Simon’s grin widened.

     “I think, I’ll do that.”

He put the cup back on the tray Maggie was still holding.

     “Thanks, honey.”

     “Maggie”, the young woman answered sternly. “My name is Maggie, not honey.” 

Simon laughed and gave her an appreciative nod.

     “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind,  _ Maggie. _ ” 

With that he headed out into the hall and closed the door behind him.

 

Rick had been gone for about five minutes, when the other three people at the entrance of the tunnel watched him quietly slide down to them.

     “Clear”, he whispered. “I didn’t see anyone.”

     “Okay, let’s go then”, Carol answered.

She signaled to Daryl to lean on her shoulders again, when Rick wordlessly slipped his arm around his boyfriend’s waist as before and started walking together with him.

     “Or did  _ you _ wanna get him up to the top of the pit by yourself?” Rick asked casually on passing her. 

She didn’t answer and just followed them quietly. Jenna was the first one at the top and stepped impatiently from one foot on the other, while she watched the two men crawl up the side of the pit clumsily. 

     “Oh man, how old are you guys?” she muttered in an annoyed inflection. 

Neither Rick, nor Daryl dignified her with an answer, but gritting his teeth Daryl tried to move faster despite the dancing stars in front of his eyes. Once on top, both Rick and Carol steadied him from either side and together they hurried through the woods as quickly as possible without being careless.   
Their pace obviously was not nearly as fast as Jenna wanted to go and after only few yards she said:

     “Sorry, but I can’t wait for you guys.”

The next moment she started running. Again.

     “No!” Daryl gasped out loud. “She’s bein’ too loud. Gotta be deaf not ta hear that tramplin’ and snappin’ a’ twigs.”

He frowned, when he suddenly felt like a memory was about to surface, but he couldn’t quite get a hold of it.   
Him being out in the woods. Hunting. Someone there by his side. Someone, who makes him feel warm, happy and content. And at the same time annoys him for being a klutz during hunting and frightening off the game. Who … ?  

     “Damn!” Rick’s curse next to him derailed his train of thought and had the memory slip away again.

Daryl let his arm drop off of Rick’s shoulder and gave it a pat.

     “Go ahead. Make sure she’s okay. We’ll catch up to ya.”

He saw Rick hesitate and lock eyes with him longer than necessary.

     “We’ll be alright. Carol’s a good shot, but Jenna don’t even have a gun.” 

He muttered something that sounded like  _ stupid bitch _ , but maybe that was just Rick’s imagination. It would have matched his own thoughts though. The moment he was about to take off after the redhaired woman, Daryl added:

     “Be careful.”

Rick looked at him in surprise and noticed a reaction in Carol’s eyes, but there was no time to question this. He just gave an affirmative nod and then hurried after Jenna. A moment later he was out of sight. 

 

As soon as Simon was out the door, Gregory flashed Jesus a furious look and stood right in front of the younger man.  
      
     “Are you crazy? No matter which closet you hid them in, they gonna find them.”

     “Don’t worry, they …”

     “Don’t worry?! It’s not  _ your  _ head that’s at stake here. I got stabbed, just because allegedly the delivery was too light.  

     “It  _ was _ ”, Jesus cut in. “Andy told me later that the box of Scotch we promised to hand over to them, was missing from the truck when they got there. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to it, would you?”

     “Certainly not. The deliveries for Negan are your responsibility. Maybe you forgot?”

Jesus eyes narrowed. 

     “Yeah, I probably forgot”, he answered, eager to not have his reply sound too sarcastic.

     “Nathan’s dead because of that. You are aware of that, aren’t you?” Gregory added smugly.

     “His name was Ethan.” 

     “Whatever. What I’m saying is, if people die because of a missing box of Scotch, what do you think they’ll do if they find out we’ve been lying to them and hid that girl? And Rick and his …” He cast a quick sideglance to Maggie, who was watching him with a piercing look. “ _ Partner _ .”

     “They won’t find them. I showed Rick the tunnel and they should be way into the woods by now.” 

     “You did  _ what _ ?” the older man flared. “If they catch them there, they will  _ know _ we’ve been hiding them and they may discover the tunnel as well. They can come in here at any given time then.”

     “They already do! Do you really think the wall or the gate is gonna stop them, if they wanna get in? This was the only chance we had. To save Rick and the others and to keep the alliance a secret.”

Gregory snorted annoyed and started pacing.

     “This alliance is gonna cost my head.”  
      
     “This alliance is gonna _save_ it”, Maggie tossed in. “Because sooner or later, for whatever reason, we’ll all die, if we don’t stop those bastards. People get killed daily for the most ridiculous reasons or for no reason at all. We need to _do_ something!”

The elderly man stopped by the window and cast a glance outside, before he answered thoughtfully:

     “Yes, we need to do something …”

 

Back in the woods behind the Barrington House, Daryl had put his arm around Carol’s shoulder again and she tried to support him as best as she could. As soon as she was certain that he was able to keep up with her, she started walking and headed deeper into the woods.

     “Wait”, Daryl said after a few yards, “where’re ya goin’? Jenna ran that way.” 

He pointed over his shoulder. 

     “If we stick together, they’ll get all four of us in case they are around here somewhere. This way, if those two get into trouble, we could help them and vice versa.”

Daryl furrowed his brow. It sounded reasonable, but something in Carol’s eyes had alarm bells go off in the back of his mind.   
The moment he meant to question her about it, they heard Jenna scream.

     “Damn!” Carol cursed under her breath and started walking faster, dragging Daryl along without changing her direction.

     “Ya said we was gonna help each other. That was the plan, right?”

     “Be reasonable! You’re in no condition to fight. You were almost killed last time and you know what happened to me.”

Daryl’s eyes turned dark with anger.

     “So ya rather have the same thing happen ta Jen and … “ A frown flashed over his face. “What’s his name again? – Ya just wanna look the other way and run?”

     “Yes! I don’t want us to go through this again.”

Unexpectedly, Daryl stopped dead in his tracks and looked Carol straight in the eyes. For what felt like an eternity he just stared at her, then he craned his neck and looked over his shoulder into the direction they came from.   
A smile spread over the woman’s face, when a moment later he proceeded ahead, just like she had intended for them to do. She was barely able to hide the triumph in her eyes, when he grapped her arm suddenly and pushed her behind several large, thick bushes.   
      
     “Down. And stay here”, he said sternly. “’m gonna go back.”

     “No! You can barely walk.”

     “I can and I will. Jen’s one of us and that dude … he helped us. He’s … “ 

He trailed off, obviously trying to think of the right term to describe his current thoughts and emotions for Rick Grimes and shook his head, when ‘gorgeous’ was the first thing that popped up.

     “Just wait”, he said in the end, before turning on his heels and stumbling into the direction of Jenna’s scream with shaky, unsteady steps.   
The headache was increasing by the minute, and time and again he had to steady himself against a tree or close his eyes for a second, when the blurriness of his sight and the dancing stars had his stomach turn. He didn’t even see the new pit in front of his feet. From one second to the next he just lost ground and slid all the way down to the bottom. It wasn’t very deep, approximately ten feet, but still he had to catch his breath for a moment and muster all his strength for the climb back up.   
Another scream in the distance had his stomach cramp up.   
Gritting his teeth, he dug his fingers deep into the wet soil, hoping to find some roots or scrub to hold onto and started crawling up the side. 

A movement above his head had him flinch violently and he realized in the same moment, that he didn’t even bring the gun. He was a poor excuse for the cavalry and unarmed on top of it.

     “C’mon, li’l brother, keep climbin’”, the face hovering above him said, the voice reaching him like an echo, as though the words were just in his mind and not actually said out loud. What was going on?  
     “I never thought ya was gonna make it to the top last time, but ya did. Know ya can do it again.” 

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut for a second, when a new wave of dizziness washed over him. When he opened them again, the stranger was gone. 

          _“Merle.”_

The name had popped up suddenly and instantly Daryl felt an incredible sadness he couldn’t explain. And he  _ knew _ , that this man hadn’t been a stranger. It was someone from his past. Someone he used to know. Someone very important. Someone he had lost. 

          _“God, ’m seein’ ghosts. How hard did those fuckers hit ma head?”_

A shot ringing out ended his train of thought and had his pulse rate pick up. He came to the top and struggled to his feet instantly, stumbling into the direction the shot had come from. What he was going to do when he got there, he didn’t know. But he had to try something. Jenna was in danger. And … and Mr. Gorgeous.   
Damn, where did that thought come from? And why did he feel like he  _ had _ to save that man, no matter what?   
Because he wasn’t a stranger, either? Because he, too, was someone from his past? Because he was very important as well? Someone he couldn’t lose? 

          _“I can’t lose you, too.”_

Carol’s voice in the back of his mind. When did she say that to him? Who else did she lose, so the threat of losing him terrified her?   
A doll in the water. A child missing. A little girl.

He gasped.  
She lost a child.  _ They  _ lost a child. Tears were pooling in his eyes all of a sudden. She was his wife, so that child was probably his. Their daughter was dead and he couldn’t even remember her. Couldn’t recall her name or a face. He couldn’t even remember being a father, although … deep down inside he felt as though he was. 

A twig snapping behind his back had him whirl around on his heels and almost lose his balance, but the next moment two arms reached out and held him. Carol!

     “I’m not gonna let you face them alone. And a gun might be helpful”, she said matter-of-factly, before wrapping her arm around his waist the way Rick had done before. 

Daryl couldn’t help making that association, while they proceeded as quickly as possible in the direction the shot and Jenna’s screams had come from.   
He could almost still feel the man’s arm around him and something about the way that lean, perfectly shaped body had pressed against him, had felt so …  _ right.  _

Voices close by had them dug behind a group of bushes and peek through the leaves. Ahead was a clearing and they could make out Jenna and Rick sitting on the ground, while three men stood around them, pointing guns at them.  
One was crouching behind Rick, the barrel of his own Python pressed to Rick’s temple. The man was sneering, while another one had his hand entwined in Jenna’s long curls, jerking her head back, so that her cheek pressed into his crouch, which had the third one give a wolf whistle.

     “So, this is  _ your _ little lady then? We had the pleasure of meeting her the other day.” He leaned in closer. “You’re welcome to watch this time, before I blow your brains out, asshole.” 

The words resounded across the clearing over to Daryl and Carol and unnoticed by her, the archer squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath.

***

He sees another, very similar scenario play out in his mind’s eye. A clearing in the woods, several men threatening his friend over there, holding a gun to his temple, while the same panicky feeling inside of Daryl urges him to prevent that man from getting hurt. 

          _“You’re stopping me on eight, Daryl.”_

Daryl? The name sounds familiar. It sounds  _ right.  _ Dennis …   
There is the picture of a young, chubby woman in his memory, explaining to him: 

          _“Dennis was my brother. My parents came up with the Dennis-Denise thing on one of their benders. Hilarious, right?”_

The next second he sees a bolt piercing her skull right though the eye, before the image melts into that of a young blonde girl. A shot rings out, blood splashes and she goes down with a hole in her head. Beth!

          _“You’re gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone, Daryl Dixon.”_

 

Daryl gasped as a myriad of memories popped up one by one by one.

 

He carrys Beth in his arms, crying.

 

Even now, he felt a dull ache deep inside on remembering that girl’s death. She’d been special.

 

Another woman meets him when he carries Beth outside and starts to cry hysterically when she sees them. Maggie? Her sobs are heartbreaking and boneless she slumps to the ground.   
The same way Mr. Gorgeous does in the next memory that flashes through Daryl’s mind. A place that looks like a prison. There’s a boy in a hat standing there, frozen and shaken to the core. Carl.  
Carl and Judith! Li’l Asskicker … He sees himself holding a baby and feeding her, while an immense wave of joy washes over him. He  _ is  _ a father. This is  _ his  _ little girl.  
A little girl. 

          _“It’s a Cherokee Rose. I don’t think there’s any flower blooming for my brother. But this one bloomed for your little girl.”_

Sophia. Carol’s daughter Sophia. Carol …

          _“What do you want?” – “A man of honor.” – “Rick has honor.”_

Rick? Rick! 

          _“You’re my brother.”_

_      “Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo.”  _

Negan.

_      “I’m really sorry about Michonne. I woulda traded places, but she wouldn’t let me.”   _

His own words to Rick after Michonne was killed.

_      “If it’s between her and you … I couldn’t bear losing  _ you _. – I love you.”  _

Rick.  _ Rick! _

***

The pictures popped up and changed faster and faster, spiralling around in his head along with names and shraps of conversations, causing emotional chaos inside of him. 

          _“I love you.”_

He heard Rick’s voice in his head, the words echoing in his mind until the veil lifted and he was able to see things clearly again.   
He remembered! Remembered who he was, where he came from and where he belonged. Carl and Judith – Rick’s children.  _ Their  _ children, because he and Rick, they were … He and  _ Rick,  _ not Carol. He wasn’t  _ her _ husband, he was Rick’s … Rick’s partner. She was a friend, no more, no less. And it wasn’t her he loved. Not like that anyway. 

Jenna’s horrified squeal when she was being pushed to the ground, brought Daryl back to the here and now.

     “Rick!” he gasped the next moment and had Carol look at him alarmed.

She was about to hush him, so he wouldn’t give their presence away, when she saw the look in his eyes. She didn’t even have to ask.The way he was staring at her with plain shock, shaking his head in total incomprehension was obvious.   
He remembered. He  _ knew.  _ The question in his eyes was almost screaming at her:   
_ “How could you do this? We were friends. Why, Carol?” _

Tears flooded her eyes.

     “I loved you first”, she croaked out. 


	16. Chapter 16

“I loved you first”, Carol croaked out.

 

In the next second she jumped to her feet and ran out onto the clearing with a battle cry that stunned the men long enough for her to aim and shoot. She hit the one who was holding his gun to Rick’s head, right between the eyes. In a last reflex the dying man pulled the trigger even while he was dropping to the ground and the loud bang right next to his ear did not only hurt him, but also left Rick deaf and stunned for a moment. Unarmed and disorientated, he let himself drop to the ground, frantically looking around for his gun.   
Jenna screamed and covered her head with her hands, while more shots rang out.   
It all went so fast.  
Unable to do much of anything, Daryl watched in horror as the second man whirled around on his heels and aimed at Carol, both of them shooting at each other in the same moment. And both of them dropping a second later.

          _“No!”_

Rick had crawled to the body of the man, who had held him at gunpoint. He was just reaching for his gun, when the third one of the attackers took aim right at him.

        “No!!!” 

Daryl pushed through the bushes and ran onto the clearing, although he was unable to do anything. He didn’t have a gun or his crossbow and he would never get there in time to put his knife to use. But maybe he could buy Rick the time he needed to be faster than the attacker. He had to try.  
The man whirled around when he heard Daryl’s scream and the rapidly approaching footsteps behind him and changed his aim, pointing the barrel right at Daryl’s chest now. Rick frantically fumbled for the Python, that lay half buried beneath the body, when another shot ringing out almost stopped his heart.   
All three men seemed to be transfixed to the spot for a moment. Rick stared with unnaturally widened eyes at his boyfriend, dreading to see blood and expecting him to drop to the ground any second now. But Daryl just stood there, for his part staring at the man in front of him – and at the bolt that stuck in his temple. The next moment the attacker dropped the aimlessly fired gun and collapsed, pulling both Rick and Daryl out of their stupor.   
For just a split second Rick’s heart had skipped a beat, when he had seen that bolt stick out of that man’s head. An image, that was so achingly familiar and brought back memories of all the times Daryl’s well-aimed shots had saved his life. For a long time now, he had even started to wait for that miraculous bolt out of nowhere whenever a situation got tight.   
But this just now – that was not a rescue, it was another threat. Who …?

Before he could follow that train of thought further, a tall blond man stepped out from behind a group of trees, a crossbow slung over his shoulder and his hands raised defensively. A second man, not as tall and not as thin, with short dark hair followed a step behind. He was holding a gun in his right hand, but hadn’t raised it. Rick couldn’t help but notice, that the man’s left forearm was missing.  
Daryl did, too. And he also recognized both of them instantly. He couldn’t remember what the name of the dark-haired guy was, but he remembered seeing him in that burned forest what felt a lifetime ago. He had been a member of the group, that had set out to find Dwight, Sherry and Tina, and a moment of carelessness had cost him his forearm. He had been bitten by a walker and one of his  _ friends  _ had chopped off the limb without even hesitating, stealing the unfortunate man’s watch on top of it.   
The other one …  _ Dwight _ , him Daryl would probaby have remembered even after he had lost his memory. This man fill him with hate and fury to an extent that no one had ever done before. Not Negan, not the Governor and not even Will Dixon. All three of them, they were what they were, did the things they did without even realizing that they were doing something wrong – it was just how their world worked for them. But Dwight – he knew. He’d been different when Daryl had first run into him, but he had  _ chosen  _ to double-cross him, to side with the enemy, to be no better than Negan was. He knew, that whatever he was doing was wrong and he did it anyway.   
        He had killed Denise. He had taken everything Daryl had owned and treasured and he had betrayed his trust.

        “Sonuvabitch!”

Drawing his knife and stomping in Dwight’s direction was a matter of seconds, but Dwight’s companion raising his gun had him stop dead in his tracks instantly.   
Those two were smart and they must have watched them for a while, because the gunman wasn’t aiming at Daryl – he was pointing his weapon straight at Rick. Maybe Dwight had told him one or the other thing about Daryl – like that he was unlikely to care what happened to himself, but he would rather die than see someone he loved getting hurt.  

        “Cam”, Dwight made a gesture to the other man, “put it down.” 

The man he had referred to as ‘Cam’ lowered his weapon, but kept a watchful eye on both Rick and Daryl. Dwight turned to the latter.

        “We won’t hurt you.”

        “Yeah? Can’t say the same for us”, Daryl shot back instantly, which had a smile tug at the corners of Dwight’s mouth.

        “Wanna help her up?” he asked, nodding in Jenna’s direction. 

The redhaired woman was sitting on the ground, shaking like aspen leaf. She had recognized Dwight and Cam as well and the moment Dwight mentioned her, she crawled behind Daryl’s legs in a childish attempt to hide there.

        “Don’t let them take me, please.” 

        “Listen”, Dwight spoke again, “those shots were probably heard in the Hilltop. We don’t have much time. Simon and his men may show up here soon, so listen up. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I never intended to shoot that girl the other day. That was an accident. And when I shot you – that was to save your life. I knew, what Negan had planned for your group. Knew he was gonna line up everyone of your people he could get his hands on and bash in someone’s head. He’s done it before.  But he never picks someone who’s sick or injured or in any way too weak to make a point. He’s the boss. He can do whatever the hell he wants and no one can stop him. Wouldn’t quite bring the message across, if he killed someone who was likely to fall over by themselves any moment, right?”

He cast a quick look in all directions, but there was no sign of anyone from the Hilltop approaching yet, so he continued quickly.

        “The man’s a maniac. He isn’t dumb, but he’s a narcissistic asshole and a slave driver. A dictator of the worst kind. Cam and I, we are only two of many, who hate the man as much as you do.”

While he was talking, Rick had found his gun and slowly got up. He held the Python in his hand, but just like Cam hadn’t raised his arm. All four were eyeing each other, the tension in the air almost palpable, but for the time being hostilities had ceased.   

        “Whadda ya sayin’, man?” Daryl cut in grumpily.

        “What I’m saying is, that you’ve got allies on the inside. When Sherry and I decided to go back, we had no choice. He doesn’t let it pass, when people shun his  _ hospitality _ and we would have been on the run for the rest of our lives.”   
He pulled in a deep breath.  
        “Not sure what we’re having back there is a life though. He … she … Well, she’s  _ his  _ wife now, because whatever the man wants, he gets. And the asshole is even deluding himself saying those girls he calls wives are with him of their own free will. Pfff. As though they had a choice.”  
He pointed at his burned cheek.  
        “This is what he did to me. With a hot flat iron, so I’d learn my lesson. And he would have killed me if Sherry hadn’t pleaded for my life and offered to marry him.”

With a disgusted air on his face, he spat on the ground. 

        “You were right back then, you know. When you said we were gonna be sorry. – We are. And it needs to stop.  _ He _ needs to be stopped. So whatever you guys have planned – do it soon. You’re gonna have help inside of the Sanctuary, I guarantee it.”

        “How many?” Rick tossed in. 

        “Many”, Dwight replied earnestly. “Negan thinks he’s got people’s respect and this being the reason they obey and kneel to him, but truth is, they are afraid. That’s all. And his generals, they are a bunch of opportunists – it gets them a shitload of benefits to work for the man, but they don’t give a damn about him personally. They will follow whoever pays the most.”

        “And we’re supposed ta trust yer word there?”

Dwight looked at Daryl calmly and shrugged.

        “It’s us living in that hell of a place, not you. You’ve got a choice – you can carry on the way you’re doing now. Provide for him and other than that, stay in your neat little communities and be a bunch of slaves for the rest of your days, if that’s what you want. It sucks, but it’s still a life.  _ We  _ are the ones who have to suffer that man every single day and it’s in our best interest to help you end this.”

He pointed at his face again and at Cam’s arm.

        “Do we look like we were having a ball in that place?” He pointed at Jenna. “Does she look thrilled to be taken back to him? Why would I make this up?” 

He let the crossbow slide off his shoulder and onto the ground, before he started taking Daryl’s angel wing vest off. He held it out to him with a nod.

        “Here. Those things are yours. I found the vest on one of the dead assholes that killed Bryan and Harold. Knew it was yours. You can have it back.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed and he cast the blond man a piercing look.

        “Ya do that, I gotta kill ya.” 

Dwight’s eyebrows rose questioningly, so Daryl added, gesturing to the crossbow and vest.

        “Negan’s assholes see me with ma stuff while yer still breathin’, cats gonna be outta the bag, stupid. So keep ‘em. For now.”

With a nod Dwight put the vest back on.

        “You’re getting them back. When the war is over.”

        “Yeah, and there best be no tears and stains in ma vest or I’m gonna kill ya anyway.” 

That triggered the ghost of a smile on Dwight’s face.

        “Deal.”

Shouldering the crossbow he walked up to Daryl and held out his hand to him. Shadow blue eyes narrowed once again and the older man just stared into the burned face, ignoring the hand.

        “We’re gonna work together, ‘cause we need allies in this war. Ain’t gonna make us friends. Yer still the sonuvabitch that killed ma friend, stole ma stuff and shot me. Best get goin’ right now.” 

Dwight let his arm drop and nodded.

        “I get that. Just want you to know, that I haven’t forgotten what you did for us – for Sherry, Tina and me. So I’m kinda glad, you don’t.”

        “That I don’t  _ what _ ?”

        “Get it. Only way for you to really understand why we did what we did, why we  _ had  _ to, is to see it for yourself. Suffer the same shit we do each and every day. You have no idea what he can do and I hope you never will.”

He reached down and grabbed Jenna’s arm to pull her off the ground. She shrieked once more and instantly Daryl pushed Dwight back from the terrified woman, while Rick raised his arm, aiming the Python at him.

        “Let her go!” he demanded.

        “Drop it!” Cam ordered in the same moment, for his part aiming at Daryl. 

        “Allies, huh?” Daryl growled at Dwight.

The blond man cast him a look and bit back the remark, that Rick was aiming his gun at him all the same and even started this. 

        “Look, there is no easy way to say this, but she  _ is  _ Negan’s property and she’s causing an orange situation. He will go on sending his men out here to look for her, which means, they will be everywhere, snooping around the communities, searching your houses, watching the roads … Do I need to continue? If you’re planning anything here, the last thing you need is that kind of attention.”

He pointed at the redhaired woman.

        “As soon as Negan’s got her back, the manhunt will be over. Mission completed.”

        “No!” Jenna wrapped her arms around Daryl’s leg and clung to him like a toddler.  
        “I can’t go back, Dwight. I just can’t. Look what he’s done to you! What he’s still doing to Sherry.”

        “Jen”, Dwight said surprisingly gentle, “he’s never done anything like the iron to a woman. He never so much as hit one of you girls.”

        “There’s worse!”

        “She was raped”, Daryl said softly, nodding over to the three dead men, “only few days ago.”

Dwight looked him in the eyes, then down onto the shivering woman.

        “All the better.”

Daryl’s fist came up to sock him on the jaw for that remark, when Dwight added quickly:

        “He’s not gonna touch her. This is ironic, but Negan despises rape deeply and will gut anybody alive, who ever tries. Technically, leaving a woman no choice but to say ‘yes’, because otherwise their family or friends will get punished, is the same thing, but he doesn’t see it that way. Jenna ain’t got anyone left. He’s got no power over her and if he hears what happened to her, he’s gonna leave her alone – till she’s recovered. It’s up to you guys, to do something about him in the meantime. For all our sake.”

He crouched down in front of Jenna and looked at her quietly for a moment, before addressing her.

        “Sher is gonna take care of you. We’re on your side, but we need to go now. These guys here and their friends are our only chance to finally end this and if Simon finds them here …”

She looked up at Daryl.

        “Dennis, how do you know these people? Who are you? What …”

Dwight furrowed his brow.

        “Dennis?”

        “Long story”, Daryl muttered, before crouching down as well. “He’s right, Jen. Ya know how we lived these past months and winter is coming. Being out there’s suicide and they ain’t gonna stop huntin’ ya. Go back. That’s yer only chance.”  
         
        “No”, she whined.

        “Trust me.” He ran a hand over her hair. “And him.” He nodded over to Rick. “We got friends, probably more than we know, and we’re gonna settle this. Get ya out. Till then I need ya ta do yer part.”

          “I can’t, Dennis.”

          “Yeah, ya can. Ya survived weeks out there in ‘em woods – ya can do this, too.” 

They heard voices in the near distance, drawing closer and Daryl looked at the young woman, urging: 

        “Go!”

Sobbing, she got to her feet and stood there like a mere picture of misery. 

        “Promise me to hurry, you and your friends.”

        “Promise.” 

He gave her a hug and a moment later Dwight grabbed her arm and dragged her along towards the approaching voices, Cam following him. They heard his voice in the distance calling to someone:

        “Hey, tell Simon we got her. Search is off.” 

The voices died away and disappeared into the distance, until Daryl and Rick were left on the clearing alone and in total silence. 

Rick stood frozen, his heart beating violently against the inside of his ribs. He had watched Daryl and listened closely to every word he’d said. Could it be? His demeanor wasn’t Dennis’ anymore and what he had said, how he had responded to people from the past being mentioned …   
Before Rick found the courage to say anything, Daryl had turned away from him wordlessly. He walked over to the spot where Carol was lying and sank onto his knees next to her.   
The bullet had hit her square in the chest and she had probably been dead before she had hit the ground.   
Pressing his lips together to a thin line, he reached out and took her hand in his, sitting like that motionless and quiet, simply staring at her face. He heard Rick’s soft footsteps as the younger man walked up to him and noticed out of the corner of his eyes how Rick lowered himself to his side. He didn’t touch him and he didn’t say a word for several minutes, then Rick said almost inaudibly:

        “I’m sorry.”

Daryl turned his head and looked at him deadpan, before replying.

        “Ya don’t have ta say that, if ya don’t mean it.”

        “I do mean it”, Rick said sincerely. “I’m sorry for  _ you _ ”, he added softer. “I know, how much she meant to you. That you loved her.”

Daryl turned his head back to Carol.

        “Thought she loved me, too.”

        “She did.”

        “Yeah? That what ya do ta someone ya claim ta love?” 

He heard Rick suck in air next to him and hold it, so he said quietly:

        “Breathe, Rick, ‘s me. I remember … “ 

He broke off and swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. His head still felt as though it was ready to explode and his thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know which of all the things he remembered now were real or fake memories, which of all the emotions battling inside of him he was supposed to feel at all. And he was unable to put any of this into words. 

Relieved and overwhelmed with joy, Rick let out his breath and reached out to pull his boyfriend into a hug, when he noticed Daryl’s entire body tense up. He pulled back instantly. 

        “Daryl …”

        “For months now, I ‘s Dennis, Rick. First I ‘s no one, then I ‘s Dennis, now I’m Daryl. I ‘s alone, then I ‘s married to her, now there’s you … After not rememberin’  _ anything _ , there’s way too many memories now – lots of ‘em contradicting each other.”

Again he broke off and breathed laboredly a few times, squeezing his eyes shut to fight a new wave of nausea. Rick decided to not push the matter, while he felt entirely helpless. He had him back. Daryl remembered and he was right here with him – and yet he was not. The events of the past months and the way Carol had messed with his mind, had apparently left an immense chaos. One that time would hopefully be able to help dissolve. . 

        “She … “, Rick started cautiously, pointing at Carol’s shot wound, “she’s gonna turn, Daryl. Do you want me to …?”

        “No. No, I do it.” He pulled out his knife. “I owe her that much.” 

        “Do you?”

Daryl cast him a sideglance, his features hard.

        “Without her, I woulda died out there.” 

        “You almost died out there,  _ because _ of her.”

The older man turned back around and gritted his teeth.

        “Not now, Rick.” 

He clutched the knife harder and pulled in another deep breath. Then he bent over the body of Carol Peletier and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. 

        “We’re good”, he whispered to her, before he drove the knife through her temple.

 

The sound of approaching horses drew their attention to the same direction, Dwight and the other Saviors had just disappeared in.   
A moment later Richard and one of his men appeared on the clearing and dismounted instantly on seeing them.

        “Thank God, you’re alright”, he said. “We heard shots and then some of the Saviors headed out here.”

He looked around and took in the scenario – three dead strangers and Daryl and Rick kneeling next to Carol’s body.

        “Those are the same bastards you ran into before, aren’t they?” he asked Daryl, but got no response. 

The archer didn’t even look up. He had turned back to Carol and looked at her face, held her hand and appeared to be deep in thought.   
Rick got up, gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then walked over to Richard. He led him a few steps away and then said:

        “Those are the same men, yes. They killed Carol and …”

        “And the Saviors got the other girl, right? I heard someone telling Simon she was caught. That and the shots had us worried for the two of you, so Daniel and I came to check on you.”   
He nodded in Daryl’s direction.  
        “How is he?” 

Rick sighed and ran a hand through his curls. 

        “Not good. He remembers, but right now that makes matters even worse. We need to take him back to Carson and … I don’t know. It’ll take time.”

Richard nodded, casting a sympathatic look from Rick to Daryl and back. Time … 

        “Do you need us here? Otherwise Daniel and I are gonna head back and help Jesus keep Gregory in check. That man worries me more than the Saviors, truth to be told.”

He saw a questioning frown spread over Rick’s face and added:

        “It’s not gonna come as a surprise, that Gregory has voiced doubts about your ability to lead your community into a war. And I’m honest with you here – I was wondering the same thing for a while. But your weakness was the loss of someone very special, which in no way ever diminished your determination and the will to fight for our cause. His weakness is the fact that there  _ is _ no one and nothing special to him, except himself. He’s gonna cave in sooner or later and sell us all out, if that saves his neck and his precious carpets.”

Rick’s expression darkened visibly. Richard was right – none of this came as a surprise and his assessment regarding the Hilltop’s leader was onehundred percent identical to Rick’s. Gregory was a problem, the weak spot of their entire operation. Maybe someone had best finish what Ethan started …

        “Go ahead”, he said to the Kingdom men, “we’ll be right there.”

        “You wanna ride with us?” Richard offered, but Rick instantly shook his head.

        “We need ta bury her”, Daryl cut in flatly at that moment, still not looking up.

Rick opened his mouth to protest, meant to remind Daryl that there were more important things to think of – like keeping Gregory and his filthy mouth at bay, planning a war and getting Daryl back to bed as soon as possible, so his injuries could heal.    
But he didn’t say a word. He took a look at his boyfriend and how the archer sat next to Carol with slumped shoulders, holding her hand, and kept quiet.  
He noticed Richard raise an eyebrow and said softly:

        “She used to be one of our group. She’s always meant a lot to Daryl and burying her is important to him. – So it’s important to me, too.” 

        “You’re gonna need these”, Richard’s companion said behind him, while he pulled two foldout shovels from his and Richard’s saddlebags and held them out to Rick. 

        “Try to hurry”, Ezekiel’s right-hand man added quietly, before he mounted and a moment later headed back to the Hilltop, Daniel by his side.  

Wordlessly Rick placed one of the shovels next to Daryl, gave his friend’s shoulder another reassuring squeeze and then started digging. Lethargically the older man stood and, gritting his teeth, joined him a moment later.

        “Daryl, sit down. I’ll do it.”

        “Nah, I need ta do this.”

        “You can barely stand! And Rose is gonna demand my head if she finds out I let you dig holes with that concussion.”

If he had hoped for the smallest sign of humor, he was disappointed. Daryl just stood there pale as a ghost, a layer of sweat covering his face and his hand clutching the shovel with shaking hands. 

        “I did this for Beth. And Denise. ‘Cause I hadda. ‘Cause it means something. Ya did the same for Michonne.”

Rick breathed in deep and then slowly shook his head.

        “That wasn’t me. Carl did. And Aaron, Abraham and Sasha.”

This had Daryl look up finally and cast his boyfriend a surprised look. Rick shrugged helplessly.

        “You had lost so much blood and had passed out. I was afraid, you … There was nothing I could do for  _ her _ , but I couldn’t lose you, too. You were the priority. – You still are.”    
He reached a hand out to Daryl, but let his arm drop to his side again before he even touched him.  
        “Please, just let me do this for you.”

        “Do it for  _ her _ , despite what …”

        “I’ll do it for  _ you _ . Because it’s important to you. Because she was. But I’m not gonna lie and pretend that the same goes for me. It does not.”

For a moment they just stood silently in front of each others and held the other one’s look, then Daryl gave a curt nod.

        “Fair enough.”

With a pained moan he dropped back to the ground, instantly pressing his hands to his throbbing head, while Rick started digging like a man possessed.   
He just wanted to get this over with. They had to get back to the Hilltop, for Daryl’s sake first of all, and it made him furious that he had to do something for Carol now that he hadn’t even done for Michonne.   
Brave and loyal Michonne. She would have deserved better and her death still pained Rick a lot. That he was ever going to be able to forgive Carol for what she’d done, was highly doubtful. 

It wasn’t a deep grave in which they placed the woman’s body in the end, but it served its purpose. When a layer of soil covered Carol Peletier, Daryl knelt next to the grave and placed his hand on top of it.

        “She did love me, somehow, in her own special way”, he said almost inaudibly.  
“Growin’ tired of diggin’ someone’s grave, Rick. Been too many. I miss Beth and Denise …  Merle ... and Michonne …  ‘n’ now Carol.”  
He flashed Rick a quick sideglance before focussing on the fresh grave again.  
        “I couldn’t bear, if …if … “ He swallowed hard. “Not rememberin’ anything does actually have an advantage – ya forget all the pain, too.”

The first tear fell silently. There were no sobs, no visible indications of the dam breaking, but when Daryl hung his head, the long stands of hair covering his face, Rick knew he was crying. 


	17. Chapter 17

Leaving his study, Gregory slammed the door shut behind him and with large angry strides approached Jesus and Maggie who were standing in the entrance door of the Barrington House.

      “If you ever do anything like that again …”, he started, when Jesus’ warning glance had him fall quiet.

It wasn’t over yet.

 

After a thin, blond guy with a crossbow had informed Simon that the girl they had been looking for was found, the Saviors had called off the search and one car after the other had left the Hilltop.  
With furiously blazing eyes, Gregory had watched through the window of his study how they had passed the gate, leaving his house in chaos, as usual.   
Why it was necessary to turn the contents of almost every closet and cabinet upside down when looking for  _ people  _ was beyond him, and this constant trampling in and out had left more than a few dirty smudges on his carpets.   
And for what? To hide and protect a bunch of people who’d been nothing but trouble from the moment they first showed up in the Hilltop. People who would most likely mean a lot more trouble in the future. And it was  _ his  _ head that was on the block, if the Saviors ever found out about the conspiracy.  
More than once during the past hours, he’d been close to telling Simon the truth. Tell him about the plans of the three communities to unite and go to war against the Saviors under the leadership of this impertinent Rick Grimes and his henchman as well as that ridiculous zoo keeper at the Kingdom.   
He could have cheated the gallows, if he had put the blame on Jesus and Maggie, let Simon know that those two had been hiding Rick and his people here in the Hilltop and inform him about the true reason for Richard and his men’s presence here.   
The Saviors would probably have taken care of the entire bunch immediately and he would have been ridded of those nails in his coffin. Maybe he would even be rewarded by Negan for his loyalty and honesty.   
But Jesus, Maggie and those horsemen had been around him constantly, keeping a watchful eye on him and not giving him any chance to talk to Simon, as though they knew about this plan forming in his head. He had to pull it through as long as he still  _ had  _ a head.   
Unfortunately there was no proof. Richard had explained his presence quite reasonably and Rick and his people had disappeared. Even the Saviors heading out into the woods hadn’t turned them up, so he, Gregory, would look like a fool if he accused his right-hand man of hiding a group of collaborators in the Hilltop, without even a trace of them anywhere. But the day would come.

 

      “Gregory, my man!” Simon’s voice had the older man as well as Jesus and Maggie whirl around on their heels and watch the Savior approach them through the entrance hall. 

Gregory’s expression darkened visibly.

      “You’ve been turning my house upside down for hours now, looking for someone who was never here, although …”

      “ _ Your _ house, Greg?” Simon asked challengingly, drawing threateningly close to the older man. 

      “All I’m saying is, that the Hilltop has always kept its side of the bargain and you’ve got no reason to doubt us.”

      “I sure hope so”, Simon cut in with a gloating grin. “Or your next head count in this place is gonna be one short.” 

He patted Gregory’s cheek, before heading to the door. Gregory cast an angry glance at the two men following on his heels who were leaving even more dirty footprints.

      “Maybe next time you could have the decency to use the doormat. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep those carpets clean?”

A punch to his face cut him short and with a pained yelp the elderly man pressed one hand on his bleeding nose.

      “Yeah”, the Savior that hit him replied with a grin, “especially blood stains on the carpets are such a pain in the ass.” 

Laughing, the two Saviors followed their boss out onto the square, where they had their pick-up parked. Three more of Simon’s men were already seated on the truck bed, waiting for them to hit the road. 

Pressing his hand to his nose, Gregory came to stand next to Jesus and Maggie on the front porch.

      “We’re gonna have a word about this”, he muttered to them, when he noticed Simon stop dead in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs and everybody around him stare in the direction of the gate.

      “Shit”, Jesus said quietly, while Maggie’s eyes grew large. 

Rick and Daryl had just walked through the gate.

The leader had his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and supported him as best as he could, while Daryl stumbled rather than walked. He looked likely to pass out any second and Rick had been focussed on taking him back to the Hilltop and the doctor as soon as only possible.  
When they had approached the gate, they had noticed with relief that the Saviors’ cars were gone, so apparently the coast was clear. A fatal mistake. 

Rick stopped dead in his tracks and grew pale, when he noticed the pick-up parked in the middle of the square and Simon as well as some of his men standing in front of the Barrington House.  
They had already seen them. There was no turning back and each second they hesitated, would only increase the Saviors’ suspicion. So after a short pause, Rick breathed in deep, tightened his arm around Daryl and took a step forward again.

      “They’re still here”, he whispered to his partner, having the older man lift his head and try to focus, which both seemed a task almost impossible to accomplish. 

      “Same story”, Daryl croaked out. “Yer here ta take me to the doctor’s. Simple as that.” 

      “And we  _ walked  _ all the way from Alexandria?”

      “Had an accident. Got carjacked. Whatever. Tell ‘em a story. Ain’t got no choice.”

Simon flashed a glance to Gregory who was pale as a sheet and nervously fumbling with his fingers. 

      “If that ain’t Rick Grimes and his right-hand man”, Simon said, his eyes boring into Gregory’s. “Correct  me, if I’m wrong, but I see a lot of important peeps of all three communities together here now. You guys planning a party or something?” 

Gregory almost choked on the lump in his throat and shook his head.

      “Of course not”, Simon added with a piercing look, “otherwise you would have invited us, right? Unless, of course, it’s supposed to be a surprise. But you know what, Gregory, Negan hates surprises.” 

Jesus pointed in the direction of Rick and Daryl and answered in the older man’s stead:

      “Looks like they’re here to see the doctor. One of them is injured and you know Carson is the only doctor in this area.”

      “Yeah, what would we ever do without the Carsons? But you’re telling me crap right now, aren’t you? Think I’m as stupid as Gregory there looks?”

Jesus cast him an innocent look. 

      “Hardly. All I’m saying is …”

      “Whatever you’re saying, I don’t give a damn. And come down from there – all of you. I don’t appreciate having to look up to people when I’m talking.”

The next second, before either Jesus nor Maggie could stop him, Gregory pointed to Rick and Daryl and said:

      “ _ They  _ are your problem, not us. Whenever Rick Grimes and his henchman show up, people die. They’re nothing but trouble and I for one never wanted them here to begin with. I told you, the Hilltop always kept its side of the bargain, but   
those two …”

Suddenly he pulled a gun out of his waistband and aimed it in Rick and Daryl’s direction.  
Rick froze. He couldn’t reach for his gun in turn, because he held Daryl to his right, cursing under his breath for not considering this. And Gregory had his weapon already aimed – he would shoot as soon as Rick so much as moved a muscle. So the leader stood totally still, staring at the elderly man with an icy glare.   
Unexpectantly Daryl let go of him and stepped right in front of him, spreading his arms to show he was unarmed – and to make himself an even larger shield for Rick. 

      “No!” Rick tried to pull him back, panic in his voice when he saw Gregory’s hand tighten around the gun. 

Undoubtingly he was going to pull the trigger any second now.   
The next moment Gregory was pushed roughly from behind and the shove sent him flying down the stairs head first. The gun fell from his hand when his head connected forcefully with the steps, the breaking of his neck audible all across the square.   
The limb body slid down the stairs and came to rest at the foot a moment later, with everybody just staring at the motionless form with wide eyes. 

Simon’s voice pulled the people out of their stupor:

      “Whadda you know, the old guy was right – people do die as soon as Rick Grimes shows up.” 

He gave a gloating laughter, joined by his men who obviously considered his joke hilarious, unlike the Hilltop and Alexandria people. 

A motion at the top of the stairs drew everybody’s attention to the porch, where Rose Mitchell stood with shaking hands and angrily flushed cheeks.

      “Nobody harms my patients.” 

Simon gave her an appreciative look, before pointing at Daryl.

      “That one of your patients?”

      “He doesn’t look too healthy, does he?” the sturdy nurse said resolutely while walking down the stairs. “So,  _ yes _ ! Harlan! Gimme a hand here.”

The doctor emerged from the shadow of his trailer and walked over to her with a sigh. 

      “Now you know, who the boss is around this place”, he muttered to Simon on passing him, which triggered another laughter from the Savior.

Rose cast a look at Gregory’s body and her lips became a thin line.   
They had trusted this man once, but he had betrayed their trust every step of the way. He had never been good for this town, not for one single day. The mere fact that there had been no one willing to take his place, had kept him in his position for so long. For too long. But she had watched Maggie and Jesus over the past months and there was hope now. 

She turned to Simon, while pointing at Gregory and said:

“Be a good boy and take out the trash when you leave.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and hurried over the square to see to Daryl and Rick, Harlan following on her heels.

Simon broke out laughing once again.

      “I like her. That woman’s got more balls than a couple of you guys around here”, he said to no one in particular. Turning to his men he added:   
“Since she got that jackass down off of those stairs for us and he’s doing some decent kneeling, sort of, let’s humor the lady. Load that shit up and tie him. Negan is gonna want to add him to his collection at the fence.” 

While his men complied and tossed Gregory’s body on the truck bed of the pick-up, Simon turned to Maggie.

      “By the way – I don’t agree with good ol’ Greg there. One of the Hilltop’s deliveries was light and Ethan failed to bring us Gregory’s head as payment, so I’m afraid, there’s still an outstanding score.”

      “You’ve got Gregory’s head now”, Maggie stated.

      “Not good enough, missy. We both know this was an unfortunate accident. Unfortunate for him. So, who’s the person in charge here now, so we can talk about what you nice people are gonna do for us to settle this?”

Maggie walked down the stairs and planted herself in front of the sneering Savior.

      “My name is Maggie. Not ‘missy’, not ‘honey’. Maggie Rhee. And there can’t be any negociations about agreements made before I was even here.”

      “Well, Mags, you are in charge  _ now _ apparently, which makes you responsible for  _ all  _ agreements – future and past. So either I see a little donation here freely now or …”

      “Here’s what you were missing”, Jesus voice cut him short. 

The long-haired man walked down the stairs, carrying a box, and pushed the chinking contents into Simon’s arms.

      “Guess those are the bottles of Scotch that were missing. Gregory hid them. Kept them for himself, without giving a damn that people died because of that.”

Simon’s eyebrows went up.

      “And you knew about that?”

      “I found out later that he secretly took them out of the truck before Ethan and his group left that day. I always hoped he would admit it and turn them over freely.” He shrugged.  
      “He  _ was _ our leader and selling people out is not my style.” 

A grin spread over Simon’s face.

      “And, Jesus, do I like that style.” He gave the smaller man a hearty slap to the shoulder. “Loyalty is a noble thing. And honesty.”

He placed the box on the truck bed next to Gregory’s body, before turning to Jesus and Maggie once more.

      “I see there’s a change of leadership here and you two seem to have gotten the message.” He pulled one bottle out of the box and pushed it in Maggie’s hand.  
      “To a successful new cooperation.”

The next moment he took the bottle back and pointed at her baby bump.

      “Nah, would be a waste giving you that good stuff, since you can’t even drink it. Negan is gonna appreciate it for you.” 

Grinning he returned the bottle to the box and then approached Rick and Daryl, who were headed towards the Barrington House with Rose and Harlan by their side.   
The Savior stepping in their way flanked by two of his men, stopped them. 

      “Rick. You weren’t just gonna walk by me without saying hello, were you? Paying the Hilltop a friendly visit?”

Rick sighed. He was so immensely tired of Negan and all the sneering bastards he had working for him. He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want to talk to them. He most certainly didn’t want to provide for and kneel to them. He just wanted to kill them.

      “Daryl got injured during a hunting trip. I’m just taking him to the doctor’s.”

Simon turned to the archer.

      “Jeez, each time I see you, you look like shit, man. Rick, you should really look for another right-hand man – that one’s damaged goods and only giving you trouble from the looks of it.”   
He pulled out his gun.  
      “Best give you a hand with that problem.”

      “No!” This time it was Rick stepping protectively in front of his partner. “You’ve got what you came here for, so just leave.”

      “Or else what?”

      “Or else I may lose my right-hand man – and I need him. Like Negan said, without one I’d have a shitload of work on my hands and you want Alexandria to still be able to function and provide for you, right?” 

Simon’s grin widened again.

      “Right.” He holstered his gun. “Suit yourself. He ain’t  _ my _ problem after all. Just think a guy like you could do better than that.” 

He turned to Daryl.

      “Hunting trip, huh? Catch anything?”

Narrow eyes cast him a piercing look.

      “Yeah. Rabies”, Daryl growled.

Simon laughed out loud.

      “I like you guys. Always have a good laugh around you. – Let’s head out!”

A minute later the large gate closed behind the pick-up and silence spread through the Hilltop, as though everyone was holding their breath and didn’t dare move.   
Rose slapping Harlan’s upper arm pulled people out of their stupor.

      “You can play pillar of salt later. I want Daryl in bed right  _ now _ .”

          _“Yeah, I know the feeling”,_ Jesus couldn’t help thinking. 

Glenn, who’d been standing next to the doctor’s trailer, hurried to the stairs and pulled Maggie into his arms, not surprised to feel her slightly tremble although she appeared to be calm on the outside. 

      “You alright?” he whispered in her ear when she returned the hug.  
       
      “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just … I can’t believe …” She breathed in deep. “He would have killed Rick. Maybe Daryl, too. And he knew people were gonna die when a delivery was light and still he kept that liquor. What kind of man …”  
She straightened up.  
      “Guess he deserved what came to him.”

      “You bet he did”, Jesus cut in. “And these people here, they deserve someone at the helm who’ll do way better than Gregory ever did.”

He gave her a meaningful look.

      “I’m no leader”, she said softly.

      “Yes, you are”, Rick said the moment he and Daryl reached her. “You’ve always been, which is why I had you do negociations with Gregory. And between the two of us, I think you’re even the better one.”

She turned around to him and hugged him, unconsciously including Daryl in that hug.

      “I still believe in you, Rick. Never stopped.”

      “Then believe me when I tell you, that you’re made for this job. You’re gonna do great and with you at the helm and Jesus as your right-hand man, this community will stand stronger than ever before.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, then at Daryl who gave her a silent nod, before at last her eyes came to rest on Jesus.  

      “My bet was on you all this time”, Paul said with a smile. 

      “Still”, she replied, “I want a vote. We need to ask the people of this community whether they want me at the helm at all. This is a democracy as of now and no dictatorship anymore.”

      “That just now made ya a leader”, Daryl said softly.

The next moment his knees buckled and boneless he went down, while Rick tried to hold him, cursing under his breath. 

      “This front porch election campaign is postponed as of now”, Rose chided, before she put two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle.   
      “Richard! Come on, make yourself useful here and help Rick carry Daryl upstairs.” 

      “Yes, ma’am”, Richard replied with a shrug, wondering for a moment, if he was still  _ Ezekiel’s  _ right-hand man.

The moment the Kingdom fighter as well as Rick, Daryl, Rose and Harlan had disappeared into the Barrington House, Jesus couldn’t suppress his grin a moment longer.

      “However that vote is gonna turn out, Maggie, you best be aware of the fact that it’ll always be  _ Rose _ running this town.”

Maggie giggled.

      “I can live with that.”

 

When Rick came out of Daryl’s room ten minutes later, he found Tara, Maggie and Glenn waiting right outside, looking at him questioningly. 

      “How is he?” Tara asked. 

      “He’s passed out. He should never have been running about with that head injury, but there really wasn’t much of a choice.” He sighed. “Rose is on the warpath and poor Harlan is at the receiving end, but between the both of them Daryl’s in good hands. 

      “Can’t believe Carol seriously wanted to leave here and have Daryl out there in this con…”

Tara stopped, when she saw a reaction in Rick’s eyes.

      “Where is she anyway?” Maggie asked cautiously. Did she really have to ask?

      “She’s dead”, Rick just said flatly, his inflection making it impossible to determine how he felt about Carol’s death. 

      “What happened?”

With a sigh, Rick started to fill the other three in on the previous events, before he closed:

      “We buried her. If you wanna pay your respects, I’ll show you where.” 

All three of them gave a silent nod. They didn’t appreciate what Carol did and they had clearly been on Rick’s side in this, but that didn’t change the fact that Carol had been one of them. Once a member of the group, always a member of the group. They had known her for years and she had been some kind of motherly figure to many of them. Like each and every one of them, she had made mistakes, had her darker sides, but she had saved their lives often enough and the least they owed her, was to pay their respects now. And they would. 

      “How’s Daryl coping?” Glenn asked with a worried frown on his face. 

Rick pressed his lips together for a moment and took great interest in the tips of his shoes before he answered:

      “He remembers.”

He heard several gasps around him and lifted his head to look into widely smiling faces. The smiles crumbled however, when Glenn, Maggie and Tara saw the look in Rick’s eyes.

      “He remembers too much. The false memories Carol implanted in his mind, as well as the real ones and apparently this is causing an emotional overload inside of him. He’s totally confused and … somehow he’s worse off now than he was before.” He sighed. “It’ll take time. Again.”

Rick noticed the other three exchange worried looks and gritted his teeth.   
       
      “I know, what you’re thinking. I know, we’re on the verge of war and time is about the last thing we’ve got.” 

He ran both hands through his hair in frustration, before turning on his heels and wordlessly heading out onto the balcony.   
This had become his refuge, the place he ran to when he needed time to think, time to  _ work things out.  _ By now, everybody was aware of that and respected it, so neither Tara, nor Maggie or Glenn tried to follow him. They wouldn’t have known what to say anyhow. What do you say to someone who keeps finding and losing the love of their life over and over? 

 

Rick heard the door to Daryl’s room open and someone emerging, but he didn’t turn.   
He listened to footsteps disappearing into the direction of the stairs, while the rustling of clothes indicated another person approaching the balcony. He didn’t bother to check who it was. There were only two options and the moment Rose appeared by his side, he knew anyway.   
He wished she would just leave him alone. There was nothing she could have told him, that would have made him feel any better, and he had nothing to say. All he wanted was to be in that room with Daryl. He just wanted to hold him close, get some rest from all this hardship, some peace. 

      “I’m really growing tired of this balcony”, the nurse said matter-of-factly. No more.

Surprised Rick looked at her and had to suppress a smile despite himself. Of all the things she could have said,  _ this  _ sure was unique. He understood what she was aiming at. No light conversations had ever been shared on this balcony. It seemed to be the stage for hard decisions, heartaches, sorrow and bad news. 

      “He’s asleep now.” She didn’t bother him with medical details, just placed her hand gently on his arm. “Harlan and I did all we could to make him comfortable and take his physical pain away. As to the rest … I think, he’ll need you for that.”

Rick just nodded and stared out into the distance, not really seeing anything out there though. When he didn’t reply, Rose silently turned on her heels to leave. His voice had her stop a moment later:

      “You alright?”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

      “Me?”

      “You killed Gregory”, he said softly while giving her a scrutiny. “I assume you never had to kill anyone before?”

The nurse breathed in deep and straightened her back.

      “I didn’t intend to kill him – that was an accident. But if you’re asking me whether I feel guilty or regret what I did, then – no. I do not. And not because his selfishness and unscrupulousness has gotten people killed before and he deserved no better. Simply because he was about to shoot Daryl. And you.”  
She reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before turning to the door.  
      “No one tries to harm my boys and gets away with it.”

With that said, she returned into the house and hurried down the corridor, well aware of Rick’s eyes on her back. She hadn’t intended to say anything like this, ever, but since Rick asked … Why not let him know that she had taken quite a shine to him and Daryl? Why not tell them how much she cared? Why not admit that in a way she saw in them the sons she unfortunately never had? And they were going to war soon. A threat that hung over everybody’s head like the sword of Damocles. Everything that wasn’t said now, may never be said.

A tear ran down her chubby cheek and she wiped it away with a stubborn gesture. Maybe one of these days, this Negan prick would be stupid enough to show his face in her town. And if he did, he’d never know what hit him. 


	18. Chapter 18

Rick had turned back around after Rose had disappeared from his sight and with a sigh had leaned heavily on the parapet. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there like this, unmoving, just staring into the distance, when a movement to his right startled him and drew his attention to someone joining him on the balcony.  

He gasped.

      “Daryl. What are you doing up?”

The archer stood a few feet away, dressed only in a pair of boxers, a blanket wrapped around him to keep him somewhat warm. He curled his toes, when the cold from the stony floor crept into his bare feet and up his legs, making him shiver.    
He swayed and steadied himself with one hand to the wall. Instantly Rick closed the distance between them, but Daryl’s other hand placed flat on his chest stopped him at arm’s length. 

      “Needed some fresh air”, Daryl croaked out, pulling his hand back. 

      “Out here you’re just gonna catch pneumonia in addition to rabies”, Rick tried a weak attempt to have the tension he felt dissolve. 

The joke fell flat. Daryl didn’t react to it at all, just concentrated on breathing and remaining on his feet, which had Rick suppress a sigh. 

      “Please, go lie down again. Rose is gonna tar and feather me if she sees you out here.”

      “Yeah, sorry for bein’ yer  _ problem.”  _

With a frown on his face, Rick reached out and grapped Daryl’s shoulders.

      “ _ I  _ never said that and you know it. That was that prick Simon.”

Daryl shook off his hands.

      “Yeah, I heard him. Said ya can do better and I ‘s givin’ ya lots a’ trouble. Know why ya didn’t disagree. – ‘Cause that prick’s even right. Know what ya been goin’ through ‘cause a’ me.”

Rick cocked his head.

      “Right. I see what you mean. After all, I was out there every single day for the past three months looking for you, worried sick, dreading the worst, despairing over not knowing what happened to you, while you were having the time of your life. I bet, you fell off that tree deliberately. And you hit your head so hard that you lost your memory just for the fun of it. Must have been great not remembering a damn thing and barely being able to survive out there, while Carol threw you entirely off balance by messing with your mind even further. Yes, damnit, you bet you’re nothing but trouble and a pain in the ass to me.” 

Rick’s voice was shaking with agitation and his eyes had started to turn suspiciously shiny, while Daryl just stared at him. The archer’s blank expression upset Rick even further.  

      “Don’t do this, Daryl. I’m not the enemy and you know it. You’re listening to that bastard Simon and make up excuses for what Carol did, while you’re pushing  _ me _ away. – But nothing’s gonna change the fact that no one loves you more than I do.”

He blinked away the tears that pooled in his eyes.

      “And you don’t even have to keep that in mind.” He tipped his finger gently to Daryl’s heart. “In there you should know that.”

He turned away and placed his hands back onto the top of the parapet, once more staring into the distance while trying to regain his composure.    
It was deadly silent for a while and Rick wondered, if Daryl was even still there, but he didn’t dare look.    
Apparently his partner lost more than just his memory out there. Carol had destroyed the part of him, that trusted in people and had started to build some self-esteem.   
She had been his lifeline during the past three months,  but instead of saving him, she let him drown in lies and deceit. Allegedly this had been an act of love, but Daryl was right when he said  _ “That what ya do ta someone ya claim ta love?” _   
If he couldn’t even trust the people closest to him anymore, who was there to trust at all? And if it was the people claiming to love him who hurt him the most, didn’t that mean they didn’t value him as a person at all? Was he just a toy, a prize to be won in a battle of egos? Carol and Rick – had they even still considered what was best for him when they fought over him or was it about coming out on top, regardless of what they were doing to Daryl in the process? 

      “’m sorry, if I hurt ya”, Daryl said almost inaudibly into the silence after what felt like an eternity. “Don’t know what ta think or feel anymore. Don’t know who ta trust. I lost people before, but never maself.”

      “I know, how it feels”, Rick answered just as softly.

      “Losin’ yerself?”

      “No. Losing  _ you _ .”             

There was a moment of silence again, then Daryl asked:  
        
      “Carol planned ta leave with me and Jen. Knew I wasn’t up to it, but she ‘s the boss and I trusted her. – Ya knew, I ‘s not Dennis. Ya knew the truth, Rick, but ya did nothin’ ta stop her.” 

It sounded like an accusation and Rick breathed in deep without turning.

      “I couldn’t tell you the truth. Harlan said you had to come to it on your own.  _ Telling  _ you, would have pulled the rug out from under your feet and confused you to no end. Harm you even more rather than help you. I had no choice.”

      “So ya woulda let me go?”

Swallowing hard, Rick just nodded wordlessly. 

      “She planned ta head as far away from the Hilltop and Alexandria as possible. Ya was unlikely ta ever see me again. Didn’t ya realize that?”

      “’Course I did”, Rick croaked out, a stray tear running down his cheek despite him trying to hold it back. “If you love somebody, set them free”, he quoted Sting like Tara had done. “I had to think of what was best for you.”

      “So ya let her win.”

      “This wasn’t about winning. You’re not some trophy, Daryl.” He still didn’t dare look the archer in the eyes. “She was the person you needed and I was not. All I could do was get you those supplies and trust that she loved you enough to keep you safe out there. And to hope that one day you’d remember – and come home to me.”

Again it was silent for a moment, while Rick strained his ears to make out any sound behind him. Did Daryl leave? Was he still standing in his spot? What was he thinking of him now? Did he feel betrayed and let down? Did he think he, Rick, had not cared enough to fight for him? Did he hate him for allowing Carol to have her way and plan to put him through a life out there once again? 

He rubbed his hand over tired and teary eyes and sighed. There wasn’t anything else he could do or say. All he could do was wait, and hope that in time Daryl would understand what he did for him. What Daryl meant to him. 

The soft patter of bare feet behind him and the rustling of a blanket being dragged over the stony floor caught Rick’s attention and a moment later Daryl appeared by his side. 

      “When was the last time ya slept?” the archer asked unexpectantly and had Rick cast him a surprised look.

      “Don’t know.” He shrugged. “About three months ago, I guess. The night before you left … “

He trailed off and pressed his lips together when his emotions threatened to overwhelm him once again.    
Daryl nodded hardly noticeably. 

      “Yeah, same here.” He lifted his hand and had it gently run down Rick’s arm, tugging at his hand a moment later. “C’mon.” 

Without another word he turned on his heels and headed to the door, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. By now his feet felt like blocks of ice and his teeth were chattering against the cold. His motions were weary and unsteady and he longed to get back into the soft, warm bed and sleep.    
But he didn’t want to be alone. He’d had enough solitude for a lifetime and from the looks of it, Rick had had his share of it these past months, too.

A moment later Daryl dropped his blanket in front of the bed and crawled clumsily under the covers, while Rick closed the door behind them and slowly followed his boyfriend over to the bed. With a sigh Daryl let his head sink heavily onto the pillow, noticing out of the corner of his eyes how Rick picked up the blanket he had dropped. The next moment it was spread over the archer as well, before Rick bent down to him and gently pulled the covers up higher.     
A smile tugged at the corners of Daryl’s mouth.

      “Yer tucking me in?” 

Slowly Rick sank to the edge of the bed and just looked at him, not knowing what to say, so Daryl picked up again:

      “Carl and Judith – they alright?”

Rick nodded with a sad smile on his face.

      “They miss you.”

      “Miss ‘em, too. Did Judy grow some since I left?”

The younger man lifted his hand and showed a small gap with his thumb and index finger. A frown spread over Daryl’s face. 

      “That all? Yer not feedin’ the kid?”

      “It’s been three months, Daryl, not three years.”

      “Felt like a lifetime.”

Rick lowered his eyes.

      “Yeah, it did.”

Daryl watched him quietly for a moment and felt his eyes grow heavier by the second. Something that did not go unnoticed by his boyfriend.

      “Go to sleep, Daryl. We can talk some more later.” 

He was about to get up, when Daryl’s hand reached for him from under the covers and got hold of his wrist.

      “Stay with me?” 

Rick looked at him with wide eyes, feeling like laughing and crying at the same time. In the end he did neither, just nodded silently. Daryl lifted the covers while Rick kicked off his shoes and a moment later they lay next to each other, turned on the side to look the other in the eyes.   
They didn’t speak. It wasn’t necessary. They had always been good at communicating through looks alone and a myriad of thoughts and emotions were bouncing back and forth just now.   
The urge in Rick to reach out and touch Daryl was overwhelming, yet he did not, because while he clearly saw the longing in his boyfriend’s eyes, it was shadowed by confusion, hesitation, uncertainty and sadness.

      “I remember us”, Daryl said barely audible after a moment. “But I remember me and Carol just the same. There’s even a wedding. And a li’l girl.”    
His voice became thick with emotions.   
      “Thought I lost a child, whose face I couldn’t even remember. Thought I was a father.”

      “You are”, Rick said softly. “You were a father to Judith long before I was. She’s your Li’l Asskicker and always will be. And Carl …”

      “I know. But that ain’t what I’m tryin’ ta tell ya.”

      “I know what you’re trying to tell me. It’ll get better, Daryl. Rose says in time the false memories are gonna fade and you’ll be able to tell them apart from the real ones. I’m not pushing. I don’t expect or demand anything from you. I’m just … here, if you need me.”

Daryl didn’t reply to that, just looked Rick deep in the eyes with the ghost of a smile on his lips. His eyes closed, only to be forced open again.

      “Sleep, Daryl”, Rick said softly. 

      “Yer gonna be here when I wake up?”

      “Yes. Promise you.” 

With a content nod, Daryl finally shut his eyes.

      “In time, huh?” he slurred.

      “Uh-huh.”

There was silence for a moment, then Daryl added:

      “Thanks.”

      “For what?”

      “For not dishin’ out any crap. Some dumb promises ‘n’ stuff. Know maybe we ain’t got no time.”

He was asleep the next moment, never seeing Rick’s eyes swim once more with unshed tears. 

 

When Alexandria’s leader woke up again, it was dark and the entire house lay in peaceful silence. Rick had no idea what time it was or how long he had slept. All he knew was that it had been the most peaceful and refreshing sleep he had had in months. There had been no nightmares or uneasy feelings bringing him to the brink of wakening time and again. He had slept like a log and couldn’t help giving a content sigh now.    
      The next moment he became aware of the soft snoring by his side, the warmth that radiated from the familiar body next to him and an arm that was loosely wrapped over his torso. Maybe that had happened unconsciously, unintentionally – and maybe not. It didn’t matter.   
For now Rick just indulged in the feeling of having Daryl this close to him again, finally. For months even his days had been as dark as the night. But now that it was in fact dark, he felt as though the sun had just broken through the clouds and the light of his life had returned.    
He turned his head and tried to make out his lover’s face, but dark clouds veiled the moon and the twilight in their room wasn’t sufficient to see more than Daryl’s silhouette. But Rick didn’t really have to  _ see _ him, to know what he looked like right now. He had seen the archer sleep so many times over the past years and the image in his mind’s eye brought a smile to his face. Daryl, unlike any other man Rick had ever seen asleep, looked like a little boy each time he closed his eyes – the features entirely relaxed, the hair falling into his face in an unruly mess and able to sleep in every imaginable position. He would never grow tired of watching Daryl sleep.

      “Yer watchin’ me again?” the muffled voice of the archer startled him.

Rick had stopped wondering a long time ago how Daryl knew when he was asleep or not. There were many things the archer seemed to be able to hear or see or simply  _ sense  _ that others could not. And when it came to Rick, Daryl had most definitely developed a sixth sense. 

      “What do you mean ‘again’?”

      “Know ya keep watchin’ me when I’m asleep.”

      “If you  _ were  _ asleep _ , _ you wouldn’t  _ know.” _

          “Told ya before I ‘s sleepin’ with one eye and ear open. So why …”

He broke off, when he realized that his arm was still wrapped over Rick’s torso and meant to pull it back. Instantly the younger man reached out and put his hand lightly on Daryl’s forearm.    
He didn’t hold on, didn’t say a word, just rested his hand on the archer’s arm and had his fingers caress his skin in very subtle, barely noticeable motions. Daryl hesitated, torn for a moment, but then he relaxed and his arm remained wrapped over his lover the way it was.

      “Go back ta sleep, Rick. ‘s still early.”

Again Rick didn’t even have to ask. The reason for the archer to not wear a watch was not because time did not matter in this world anymore, but the mere fact that he  _ knew  _ without a clock in sight. The sixth sense apparently included a body clock. This man would never cease to amaze him.    
Rick stretched his legs and snuggled deeper into his pillow, for once not dreading sleep, but indulging in the warmth and comfort of a bed shared with the man he loved. He waited for a moment, hoping for Daryl to move closer, snuggle up, wrap a leg over his the way he had done many times before, but the archer lay entirely still, almost frozen. Rick listened to the sound of Daryl breathing and it wasn’t as deep and even as it was before – there was tension in the shallow breaths that didn’t go unnoticed despite Rick not having a sixth sense.    
Daryl was waiting, too. For Rick to push, to expect, to demand after all. And wasn’t he doing just that now?    
Rick leaned in and placed a light kiss on Daryl’s head before returning to his original spot, giving the archer the space he obviously needed.

      “Night, Daryl”, he said softly and then closed his eyes to go back to sleep. 

He didn’t expect an answer, but he got one anyhow. Not in words, but in the way Daryl let out his breath and relaxed palpably, pulling his arm back just a little, so his open palm came to rest on Rick’s chest, right above his heart.    
A moment later they were both peacefully asleep again.

 

When Rick woke up next, the sun was coming up and bathed the room into an eerie early morning twilight.    
There were voices out on the square and he heard footsteps in the corridor above his head, but it hadn’t been those sounds that had woken him. It was a soft knock, that was repeated just now before the door was opened without him having answered yet.

Tara stuck her head through the gap and cast him a smile, when she saw him awake and looking her way. 

      “Hey”, she whispered softly, entering the room uninvited, “brought you guys some breakfast.” 

She balanced a tray on one arm and pushed the door close behind her with the other, before approaching the bed.   
When she saw Rick about to sit up, she made a soothing gesture to have him stay put. The way Daryl was curled up next to him with one arm still wrapped over his boyfriend, was nothing short of heartwarming and she didn’t want to be the reason for this perfect picture to be destroyed.

She placed the tray on the nightstand next to Rick and said with a smile:

      “I’m just gonna leave this here.” She cast another look at Daryl and smiled.    
“When you simply disappeared yesterday, we were hoping you’d be here with Daryl. How is he?”

Rick turned his head to take a look at his boyfriend, before whispering to Tara:

      “It’s gonna take time. The injury as well as the mess Carol caused, but … he’s here with me now. That’s pretty much all that matters.”

Tara nodded, while her smile was shadowed by a tinge of sadness in her eyes.

      “Wish that were true”, she said with a sigh, “but …”

      “I know”, Rick cut in. “The Saviors.”

      “Right. But they can wait till after breakfast”, the young woman said determinedly. ”You guys must be starving by now. Rose peeked in around dinner time last night – and came back grinning like the Cheshire cat, by the way – but you were fast asleep, so we decided not to disturb.

      “ _ I  _ was fast asleep”, Rick corrected. “Daryl never is.”

      “Uh-huh”, came an affirmative grumble next to Rick.

The leader cast Tara a meaningful look, which had her giggle. 

      “Gimme an hour”, Rick said, serious again. “Tell Maggie, Jesus and Richard to meet me in the study, please. Something turned up yesterday we gotta talk about.” 

      “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

      “Actually, this may be good news for once. If you wanna be there – fine with me.” He cast a glance to his side and pressed his lips together for a moment. 

He would have liked for Daryl to be there, too, but the archer had to heal that head injury first of all. Rick’s stomach cramped up each time he thought about the upcoming war, especially when he imagined having to start it while Daryl wasn’t fully recovered yet. They couldn’t wait forever. Time was running out and he didn’t have the right to postpone the liberation of three communities because of one man, but wasn’t starting the battles with Daryl not up for fighting like signing his death sentence? Again?   
He was tired of having to make decisions like that. 

      “Maggie is having that vote this morning”, Tara said instead of commenting on his invitation to the next meeting. “I’ll let you know about the outcome later. Not that there’s a doubt on my mind that she’s gonna get the thumbs up from each and every one here, unless they’re all plain stupid. – Enjoy your breakfast.”

She was just about to leave, when Daryl cracking an eye open and lifting his head stopped her.

      “That’s what ya said yesterday, too, when ya brought up breakfast for Carol and me”, he said thoughtfully. “That soda … “   
He furrowed his brow.    
      “That wasn’t  _ the  _ can a’ soda, was it?”

Tara pressed her lips together, while she nodded slowly. 

      “It was.”

Daryl struggled to prop himself up on one elbow. 

      “Denise’s pop?” he croaked out. “Why the hell did ya … Wait. Maggie humming Beth’s song and that music …”

It all fell into place in that moment and had him look from Tara to Rick and back with wide eyes.

      “I get what ya’ll was tryin’ ta do, but … I almost popped that can, Tara. Ya coulda lost it.”

      “I know”, she said barely audible, “but we had to try. Denise wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

For a moment she and Daryl just looked at each other, lost together in thoughts and memories about Denise Cloyd. In the end Daryl held out his hand to Tara and with a smile she touched her fist to his, giving him the brofist she was so fond of. 

      “Wait a sec’”, the archer said suddenly, turning to Rick with a dark frown, “so that shitty music – ‘twas ya playin’ that gruesome CD again, right?” 

Rick shrugged.

      “Guilty as charged.”

      “Man, ’m half dead here and still ya have ta torture me with yer crap? I swear ta God, Grimes, next chance I get ‘m gonna toss that CD outta the window.”

      “Oh brother”, Tara commented with an eye-roll. “If you do, sure ain’t gonna be me looking for that stupid thing out there half of the night again.”

      “What?”

Daryl cast her an uncomprehending frown and then looked questioningly at Rick.

      “She turned it on when we came here”, Rick replied hesitatingly. “It was too … I couldn’t …” 

He stopped, struggling for words, while Tara continued:

      “He tossed it. Somewhere between Alexandria and the Hilltop. And when Harlan said familiar sounds and scents were likely to trigger memories, he had Jesus and me out there half of the night to look for it.”

Daryl’s eyes grew unnaturally large.

      “Ya had ‘em poor people out there at night ta go look for that crap?”   
He turned to Tara.   
      “And ya hadda find it, too? Ya couldn’t just leave it out there, so ‘s ma ears ain’t bleedin’ no more durin’ runs? Damn, with friends like that, who needs enemies.” 

      “Jesus found it”, Tara replied with a suppressed smirk.

      “Figures”, Daryl growled. “Tell Maggie ta go look for a new right-hand man. This one’s likely ta have an accident soon.”   
         
The remark had Tara laugh out loud, before she said with a fond smile in Daryl’s direction:

      “I missed you. We all did.”

She turned on her heels and left the room, unconsciously whistling one of the _gruesome_ songs. When she pulled the door close behind her, a thud on the other side of it had her giggle again. Daryl’s pillow had only just missed her.


	19. Chapter 19

When Maggie entered Rick and Daryl’s room an hour later, a wide smile spread over her face instantly. The mere sight of those two together again was enough to brighten her day and make her feel  _ happy _ . Simple as that.  
They had used the time to finish their breakfast, wash up – more or less – and get dressed. Daryl had donned a pair of comfortable sweats and a white t-shirt, as far as she was able to tell from what peeked out from underneath the bed covers, and Rick had changed into a pair of jeans and a blue denim shirt. While Daryl lay curled up on one side next to Rick, the leader sat on top of the covers, his legs crossed at the ankles and his back rested against the headboard, sipping a cup of coffee with visible delight. 

He returned the smile, when he noticed her.

      “Mornin’. Are you the person to thank for this coffee?”

Maggie’s smile turned into a grin. 

      “Yup. I thought, maybe I could buy me another vote that way. It’s election day, you know.”

She winked at him and he chuckled softly to the remark.

      “You have my vote without bribing, you know that.”

      “Sorry”, a male voice behind Maggie cut in, “but you’re not eligible to vote, since you don’t live in the Hilltop.”

      “Lord be praised”, Daryl grumbled, while he cast Jesus a scowl. 

The long-haired man didn’t respond, just smiled once again despite the fact that Daryl was glaring daggers his way.   
Something in the way Jesus was eyeing him had Daryl’s cat eyes even narrow. That guy wasn’t kosher and one of these days he was going to find out just what exactly Jesus was hiding behind that innocent smile and the stupid coat. 

      “What?!” Daryl growled, when Jesus was  _ still  _ just wordlessly staring at him. 

Before the younger man had a chance to reply, someone shoved him out of the doorway into the room.

      “I’ve got the results”, Rose explaimed excitedly, waving a piece of paper. 

      “No reason to shove me like that”, Jesus attempted a weak complaint.

His mouth gapped open, when Daryl agreed almost instantly. 

      “Right. Ya shouldn’t a’ shoved him  _ like that _ .” After a pause he added: “Best wait till he’s standin’ on top a’ some stairs.” 

Rick couldn’t help an eye-roll and cast his partner a chiding glance. 

      “Daryl. I know – he hit me, he destroyed Denise’s sodas and he sunk our truck. Still, that’s long water under the bridge. Cut it out.”

The archer grumbled something unintelligible, before he pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at Jesus to let him know, that he was going to watch him. Little did he know that the mere thought of Daryl’s eyes on him at any time and everywhere called for the coat to be pulled closer once again. 

Rose enthusiastically pulling Maggie into a tight embrace, had everybody focus on the women.

      “You won, dear. Elected chief of this hicksville unaminously. Congratulations!”

Maggie returned the hug with a wide smile, before she pulled back and grinned at Jesus. She didn’t have to officially announce a vice for everybody to know who’d be at her side to support her. He’s been there all that time backing her up and unlike Daryl, she trusted and respected Jesus unconditionally. 

Unexpectedly two chairs appeared in the doorway, followed by Richard, who was carrying them.

      “Morning”, he said in greeting to Rick and Daryl, before he cast a glance to Jesus. “Mind getting two more from next door?”

      “Sure.”

Rose blocking the doorway with her hands to her hips stopped him.

      “Maggie’s here to see to her friends. I’m here to see to my patient. You and he”, she pointed at Richard, “are here for no reason whatsoever and you will close the door from outside right now.”

A smile spread over the younger woman’s face.

      “I asked them to be here, Rose. Rick requested another meeting and said there’s important news and I thought, Daryl should be at that meeting, too. And if the mountain can’t come to Muhammad …”

      “The hell is Muhammad?” Daryl tossed in. 

Rose wasn’t easily convinced.

      “Daryl needs rest. What he doesn’t need is Paul, Richard and Muhammad in here.” 

She cast a glance towards the bed and couldn’t help smiling to herself for a moment.  
          _“In fact,_ Rick _’s the only guy he needs in here.”_

      “We’ll make it brief, promise. And you can stay, if you like.”

The nurse let her eyes wander over the assembled people. 

      “Fine. But if you’re not only giving  _ him _ another headache, but me as well, I’m gonna kick you out of here. Just so you know.” 

The moment Jesus had returned with two more chairs, Tara and Glenn showed up in the doorway, bringing their own chairs and casting a questioning look to Rick and Maggie. Rick waved to them to invite them in. 

      “The more, the merrier”, Daryl muttered quietly, but Rick heard him perfectly well even above the commotion in this room.

In a reflex move he reached out a hand and ran it gently down Daryl’s arm. He knew how much the archer hated crowds and to have this meeting here may not have been the best idea after all. The moment he touched Daryl, he almost expected him to flinch, but the older man just cast him a glance and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.   
Rose wasn’t nearly as relaxed about the crowd.

      “How many more are there gonna be? Should we have niblets and cool drinks perhaps?” she said sarcastically.

She cast Jesus a warning glance the moment she noticed him open his mouth. He actually pouted for a moment.

      “You do know I’m second in command in this place, don’t you?” he dared say. “Always was actually.”

      “You can even be  _ first _ , honey – first in line the moment I start kicking ass for the commotion in my patient’s room.”

The earlier ghost of a smile turned into a grin as Daryl nudged Rick’s thigh. 

      “Was yer mom like that?” he whispered to Rick unexpectedly, having the younger man return the grin.

      “Hell, no.” 

The smile on Daryl’s face faded as he cast Rick a thoughtful look. 

      “Pity. Mine sure as hell wasn’t, either.” He looked over to Rose, who was pretty much organizing seating arrangements now.  
“She cares. And she’d defend any patient like a lioness against any possible danger. She listens and gives advice when ya need it. Wish ma mom had been just a li’l bit like her.” 

Rick’s grin melted into a soft smile.

      “You’re right. And come to think of it, maybe my mom was like her. She just didn’t have that staff-seargant attitude.”

      “Like I said – pity.” 

Shortly after, the whole group was seated exactly in the spots Rose had assigned them to. Which meant she was sitting right next to Daryl’s side of the bed, while all the others had been banned to the other side of the room. All, save for Tara.   
      The young woman wasn’t part of the executive staff of either community and now with Daryl being back, even her interim assignment to the council of Alexandria had lapsed. She was just there because those were her friends, her family; because she cared and had a right to be filled in on the latest news, not to participate in any political debates.   
And Rose wasn’t dumb. She had seen  _ more  _ between Rick and Daryl before the two men had made the transition from friends to lovers here months before. And she saw the way Tara was looking at Daryl and vice versa. Those two had a deeper connection, were more than just friends. There was something that united them, something meaningful and genuine that had made them related souls and if anybody else, save for Rose – and Rick, of course – had the right to be seated next to the archer, it was Tara. 

When Rick had closed his report on his and Daryl’s encounter with Dwight and Cam, it was deadly silent in the room for a moment. Then Maggie said cautiously:

      “What your’re saying is, that there’s people within the Sanctuary willing to collaborate with us?” 

      “ ‘s what the prick said”, Daryl replied grumpily. 

He may have been able to understand Dwight to some extent, even believe and trust him further than the tip of his nose, but he would never, never forgive him.   
The man had killed Denise, had betrayed and spit on Daryl’s trust, had shot him, stolen the few things he owned and valued deeply, had made him lose the little faith in mankind Daryl had still had and was the reason for way too many tears and sleepless nights for Tara.   
This wasn’t over yet. Maybe Dwight would be able to help them during the upcoming war and just for that, he would pardon him for the time being and let him live. But as soon as things were settled with Negan, he would beat the holly hell out of that guy. 

      “Can we trust him?” 

      “Hell, no”, Daryl tried to sit up, grunting against the splitting pain in his skull instantly. 

Rose was about to stand, when she saw Rick gently put a hand on Daryl’s chest. He didn’t push, didn’t look at the archer, didn’t say a word – the touch was no more than a silent plea. And just as quietly Daryl complied and lay back down.   
A smile spread over Tara’s face, unseen by either of the two men. Their silent communication had always amazed and inspired her and obviously it still worked perfectly. 

      “What the guy said made sense”, Rick spoke up. “We need to be cautious, shouldn’t blindly trust anyone, but  _ if  _ he was telling the truth and we’ve got help from inside the Sanctuary, it’s a chance. We can’t ignore that.” 

There were agreeing nods and the discussion continued. They talked about how to best get in touch with their help on the inside and keep in touch without risking the mission. They agreed on continuing the training instantly, focussed especially on having members of different communities work together. It was decided that Glenn should travel to Alexandria with some of the Hilltop people in the next few days and to bring back some of the Alexandrians to be trained in the Hilltop. Richard decided to stay a while longer, but would send Daniel and two of his men back to the Kingdom within the next days – and Tara volunteered to accompany them as the first Alexandrian to be trained there.   
It wasn’t a decision easily made, but Tara felt she had to do this. Move on. Find her place. Do something meaningful. Fight. She wasn’t needed here.   
Rick and Daryl – they had each other and as much as she cared for both of them, seeing them together hurt. They say, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halfed and for a while there, as much as his loss pained her, Daryl being gone had made her find a related soul in Rick. Just like she’s been able to mourn Denise’s death together with Daryl.   
But Rick’s nightmare was over. He had his lover back, while there was no hope for Tara. Her nightmare would never end, it would just fade – in time. She was happy for those two and they deserved no less, but their happiness was twisting the knife in her wound. She had to leave. 

After a while, Daryl didn’t participate in the discussion any longer. Lying still at Rick’s side, he listened to the back and forth of words, the voices mingling and surging against his ears like waves onto a beach without actually being heard. His eyes dropped shut time and again as he lost the fight to stay awake.  
He felt the blanket he was covered with being pulled up a little higher and a hand running tenderly over his hair, then there was only darkness as he fell asleep. 

 

When he woke up again, he was alone. The crowd was gone, the chairs were gone and Rick was gone. Apparently Rose had kicked them all out and they had moved the powwow someplace else.   
Daryl sighed.  
He wasn’t even able to stay awake during a meeting and hadn’t done much participating at all. How he was going to be of any help during a war, was beyond him.   
In all those months out there, he’d been no more than a burden to Carol and the rest of their little group. He hadn’t been able to hunt or track or do much of anything. And now he was a burden to Rick, to their group, to the communities. He couldn’t support his man in meetings or during battle, couldn’t protect him out there, couldn’t even be the lover Rick was longing for. Not just physically, but mentally as well.   
There were moments he just wanted to hold Rick, kiss him, touch him and then, like lightning out of the blue, he felt guilty for those emotions, for feeling so strongly for this man. He missed Carol. Missed what they had had together, only to remind himself the next second, that there hadn’t really  _ been  _ anything they had had together. Then again – maybe it was the other way round. Maybe him and Carol,  that had been true all the time and it was Rick telling him lies now. How was he to know?   
With a frustrated snort he kicked the covers back and struggled to get up. The dizziness and pain was back instantly, but he tried to ignored both. On unsteady feet he stumbled to the door, gritting his teeth.   
Maybe some fresh air would help unravel his confused toughts. And he needed a smoke, badly.   
On passing the bed, he pulled the blanket off of it, wrapped himself into it like he had done the previous day and then headed to the balcony. The moment he stepped outside, his features darkened visibly when he found Jesus leaning on the parapet, taking a deep drag from a cigarette.   
The long-haired man cast him a quick glance and couldn’t help noticing the icy glare in Daryl’s blue eyes. He sighed. 

      “Hey”, he addressed the older man friendly as always, “shouldn’t you be lying down?”

      “Yer not only a pain in the ass now, but ma mother, too?” 

      “You’ve set your mind on hating me for the rest of my days, haven’t you?” 

      “Gotta have goals in life.” 

      “Huh”, Jesus acknowledged Daryl’s reply and resumed his observation of the square. “Care for a smoke nevertheless?” 

      “Nah, I quit.”

The younger man cast him a quick glance from the side and could barely suppress a grin. No doubt that just now was a fat lie, but Daryl would rather bite off his tongue than accept a cigarette from Jesus now. If he was going to hate his guts,  he’d do it regardless of the consequences. 

      “Wanna tell me why?” Jesus asked, while looking away again.

      “Why  _ what _ ?”

      “Why you’ve decided to keep hating me. This isn’t still about hitting Rick or the sodas or that stupid truck, is it?”

Daryl took a step closer to him and stared at him threateningly.

      “Nah, ‘s ‘bout ya havin’ yer hand in ma man’s pants first time we met.”

Jesus broke out laughing, but composed himself quickly when he noticed Daryl’s eyes narrow even further.

      “Ah, come on, Daryl. That was just his pocket and those keys weren’t even all the way in …”

      “Look, Bambi, ya can play innocent all ya like, but I ain’t stupid. Been gay all a’ ma fuckin’ life, unlike Rick, and I  _ know."_

      “Know what?”

      “Why ya wearin’ that silly coat all the time even when it’s fuckin’ hundred degrees out there. And why ya grinnin’ like a clown all day long and undress me with ‘em baby blues each time ya see me. Lemme get things straight, so ‘s even you can get it – I’m with Rick. I love that dude, got it? And yer chances with either one a’ us is like a snowflake’s chance in hell.”  
He poked his finger into the other man’s chest.  
      “Stay clear a’ me and ma man or next time ya sink a truck, yer gonna be in it.”

Jesus held up his hands defensively and nodded.

      “I got it.” He held out the cigarette he was smoking. “Peace?”

      “Said I quit.” 

The long-haired man lifted an eyebrow appreciatively. He didn’t _know_ Daryl, had never really cared for his personality and background. The archer had fascinating eyes, muscles to die for, a cute ass and an attitude that turned him on. Simple as that. That was all he’d ever paid attention to.   
But there was _more_.   
Jesus was well aware of the fact that he was a damn good-looking guy and he’d had a lay with numerous guys in the past, who’d claimed to be in a relationship. When it came to a quickie on the side, they had all forgotten that there was someone waiting back home.   
Daryl was different. Loyalty, faith and true love apparently weren’t just empty phrases to him. Rick Grimes meant the world to him and he would defend his partner and what they had with everything he had. He couldn’t be tempted. He couldn’t be bought. He not only had a heart of gold, but also an iron will.  
And he, Jesus, had not only attacked Daryl’s partner, but had also signaled painfully obvious that he was trying to taint and destroy what Rick and Daryl had together. No wonder the archer was likely to hate him till kingdom come. 

      “Rick’s over in the shed with Richard, training some of our people”, Jesus said while stubbing out his cigarette. “He’s gonna be back soon. You need anything?”

      “Nah, thanks.” 

      “’kay. I, uh, gotta go. – Be seeing you.”

He entered the house a little too quickly for his own liking and headed downstairs, trying to not give the previous incident too much thought. Whenever he had made a pass at someone in the past, them being taken or not, he had never felt like the scum he obviously was. Maybe because the guys he’d been dealing with before hadn’t been any better than he was.   
Daryl, however, shamed him deeply. Maybe this was the reason he was alone, why he had never found someone who’d been willing to stay with him, let alone lay their life down for him. If Daryl had been able to see right through him, others may have realized what he was, too. And no decent, honest and faithful man would ever consider him worth their affection. It was time for change. Time to quit playing. Life was way too short for that, especially these days.   
It was probably futile to apologize to Daryl. No shallow phrases, however sincerely they were meant, would ever impressed the archer or have him reconsider easily. Maybe the pack of cigarettes Jesus had  _ forgotten  _ on the parapet, would at least be the proverbial pipe of peace.   
The moment he stepped out onto the square, the very same pack hit him on the head from above, accompanied by Daryl’s call:

      “Ya forgot yer smokes, jackass.” 

Jesus broke out laughing despite himself. He picked the pack up and peeked inside – not a single cigarette was missing. Tossing them must have been hard for someone craving a smoke as badly as Daryl was, but the man had his pride and his principles.   
In that moment Paul Rovia started to deeply admire Daryl Dixon for reasons he had never even acknowledged before.   
He  _ would  _ change. And he would set his mind on winning that man’s friendship … or some appreciation, at least. Jesus had the feeling that someone like Daryl was totally worth the effort. 

 

Days passed quickly. Glenn had headed out to Alexandria with about a dozen of the Hilltop people, as well as quite a number of the Hilltop’s and the Kingdom’s carrier pigeons, and had returned with fifteen of the Alexandrians a day later. They had been careful. Had gone in several cars on different routes and at different times, and apparently the strategy had worked out well. No Saviors had bothered either group.   
Rick, Richard and Maggie had discussed each and every detail of their battle plans down to the design of the warpaint and had come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be much longer now. All that was left to do was train their people in the other communities further, but everybody caught on quickly and was eager to end the dominion of the Saviors. The clock was ticking. 

Richard had decided to head back to the Kingdom along with Tara, Daniel and the rest of his men later that day, to inform King Ezekiel of all the details personally and take over supervision of the training at the Kingdom.

After he had wolfed down a sandwich Rose had brought him for lunch, Daryl was just about to doze off when the door was opened with a low squeak. Reluctantly he opened one eye and peeked in the direction of the door, a smile spreading over his face a moment later. 

      “Can I come in?” Tara whispered softly.

      “Sure.”

She closed the door and walked over to the bed, lowering herself slowly to the edge on Rick’s side. 

      “I came to say good bye”, she said softly. “Richard wants to leave within the hour, so we won’t lose the light.”

He nodded, while he looked at her deadpan. Then he patted the covers next to him invitingly. 

      “Stay for a moment?”

Another smile flashed over her face and wordlessly she let herself sink onto Rick’s side of the bed. 

      “What’s the bet Rick’s gonna walk in on us any second now?” she giggled. 

      “Nah, Rick’s trainin’ ‘em Hilltop greenhorns out there.”

      “Still, what’s the bet?” 

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shrugged.

      “Wadda ya want?”

      “One of those  _ pops. _ ” Tara said softly. “Denise was right, I really do like them, but I never got one I could actually drink.”

      “Deal.”

      “What do you want?” 

      “World peace”, Daryl joked, biting back the remark that all he really wanted was this war to be over and his family alive and well with him back home.   
      “Dunno”, he said, “maybe ya could find me a new crossbow. Don’t matter – surprise me.”

She held out her open palm to him and he slapped it lightly to seal their deal. 

      “How’s your head doing?”   
       
      “’s still on ma shoulders. ‘s about the best thing I can say ‘bout it.”

Tara giggled.

      “That’s a start. Seriously though – is that headache any better yet?”

      “Yeah. Least I ain’t seeing double and food don’t taste like tar paper no more.”

Her smile faded and made room for a frown.

      “Just how hard did those bastards hit you? I never asked what happened …”

      “Don’t wanna talk ‘bout it. Can’t really remember all of it anyway. Ya know what they did to the others. Wasn’t much I could do ta help the old guy ‘n’ the boy, but I ‘s tryin’ ta stop ‘em, when they was … “

He swallowed hard and Tara placed a hand gently on his arm.

      “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

      “They ‘s too many and I ‘s not up ta fightin’ ‘em. They knocked me out. Carol said, they continued kickin’ and hittin’ even when I ‘s already on the ground. Got quite a few blows ‘n’ kicks to the head, too. Guess I wasn’t supposed ta survive this.”

Tara had turned pale and looked at him with wide eyes.

      “Thank God Richard and his men were there in time. The hell’s wrong with people these days?”

      “They’ve always been like that”, Daryl said somberly. 

Unexpectedly Tara reached over and embraced him. 

      “I’m just glad we’re about to  _ do  _ something about assholes like that”, she whispered to him. 

Daryl didn’t reply, just nodded while he returned the hug. He was going to miss Tara. There were so many people he missed and the list was growing long and longer. He missed Judith and Carl and the rest of their group back home. And those they had already lost for good.  
He pressed his lips together and fought the stinging sensation in his eyes. It felt a lifetime ago that he had told Beth how tired he was of losing people and just like everybody else he had never gotten a breather, a longer span of time with no one close to him dying. It continued. And it never got any easier – not the losing and not the missing, either. 

      “Be careful out there”, he muttered almost inaudibly, still not letting go of Tara.

The moment she was about to reply, a voice from the door startled them. 

      “What are you doing in bed with my man?” 

Tara started to laugh and let go of Daryl.

      “I won! You owe me a pop.” She turned around to Rick. “Hey.”

      “Hey yourself.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, this is the second time I find you cuddling with my boyfriend. What’s the story?” he asked in fake annoyance.

      “No need to be jealous, Rick. After all, I did spead the night with you just recently”, she grinned. 

      “Wanna run that by me again?” Daryl’s voice sounded threateningly close to her and had her laugh. 

She raised her hands defensively and got up.

      “I think I best leave town as soon as possible.”  
       
      “Uh-huh”, Rick continued the charade a moment longer, before reaching out and pulling Tara into his arms.

      “Richard’s ready to leave.”

She squeezed him heartily and then pulled back.

      “It’s not gonna be much longer now, huh?” 

      “No, we’re about set”, Rick replied. “The pigeons are gonna fly soon.”

      “Kinda ironic to have pigeons start a war.”

      “The entire world is ironic these days”, Rick said darkly. 

Tara raised her hand in farewell, about to head to the door, when she parted her fingers between the middle and ring finger and said with a grin:

      “Live long and prosper.”

      “What?” Rick replied with a confused frown, which had both Daryl and Tara roll their eyes.

      “Man, Grimes, don’t ya know nothin’?”

Daryl returned Spock’s greeting to Tara and they grinned at each other for a moment, then she winked and was out the door. 

      “The hell was that all about?” 

      “What planet did ya grow up on?” Daryl asked his boyfriend, shaking his head. 

He propped himself up on one elbow and gave Rick a look. The leader looked tired, his curls were an unruly and sweaty mess and the rumbling of his stomach was clearly audible. 

      “C’mere”, Daryl said softly, holding out his hand to Rick. 

With a sigh the younger man kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the bed, breathing in deep several times.   
He’d been running from meetings with Maggie and Richard to training the troops and back almost constantly during the past days, and sleep as well as food had gone short. As had Daryl, which bothered him far more than his fatigue and the rumbling stomach.  
Without a word the archer held out his arm invitingly and closed it tightly around his boyfriend the moment Rick let his head sink onto the other man’s chest and snuggled up close.   
There hadn’t been too many touches between them yet, as Daryl was still trying to find his way through the maze of confusing memories and emotions. And Rick had kept his promise – he didn’t push or expect or demand anything of his boyfriend. He was just  _ there,  _ patiently waiting and offering whatever Daryl needed of him. And slowly, step by step, the archer fought his way back to him. Being snuggled up and held this close would have been impossible only few days ago and Rick indulged in every touch Daryl initiated.   
The tight schedule was wearing him out and the worries about his family, about  _ all  _ of his people weighed heavy. Just lying like this in his partner’s arm gave Rick more strength and encouragement than Daryl probably realized.     
A hand starting to tenderly stroke his damp curls had Rick sigh and pull the other man closer. 

      “They givin’ ya troubles down there?” Daryl ask gently. “Want me ta come down and kick a few asses?” 

Rick’s lips twitched.

      “Nope. Actually, they’re working together way better than I expected. Definitely better than you and Jesus”, he teased. 

      “’s that dumbass still wearin’ the coat?” 

      “What? Yes, sometimes. It’s late November, Daryl, and it’s cold out there. Why?” 

      “Never mind. Just tell him, if I ever see him with that thing around ya inside the house, he’s walker food.”  
He heard Rick pull in a deep breath to reply and added quickly:   
      “Don’t ask. ‘s between him and me. And ‘s settled, if he knows what’s good for him.” 

Rick frowned, while he absentmindedly ran a hand over Daryl’s chest.

      “I’m not gonna ask what the heck that means, but I want you to know, that Jesus has been an immense support. Maggie loves him and with the baby due soon, she really does need the help. – And he’s been out there looking for you, despite the fact that this could have gotten him in serious trouble with Gregory.”  
Rick’s voice grew thick with emotions.  
      “I was out there every single day for three months straight, while people around me gave up on you for the most part. Only our group didn’t. – And Jesus did neither. I’m sure you’ve got your reasons, but try to give him a chance.”   

Daryl didn’t answer to that, just silently resumed the gentle stroking of Rick’s hair. It was quiet for a while, then the archer wordlessly turned his head and placed a kiss on Rick’s curls.   
A smile tugged at the corners of the leader’s mouth. He knew the gesture translated into: “I’ll try.” 

      “I need to get back down there”, Rick said with a sigh, making no move to get up though. 

      “Ya don’t have ta win that war alone”, Daryl replied with a frown. “Get some rest and have a bite ta eat. Ya ain’t no use out there half dead.”

      “Later. I promise.”

      “Promises, promises.” Daryl leaned his head against Rick’s, which had his long strands mix with the leader’s damp curls. “I should be down there with ya. Gonna be the only one with no trainin’ whatsoever when we start that war.”  

      “That war is gonna be Ring around the Rosie comparted to what’s gonna break loose if Rose sees you out of bed.” Rick smirked. “Don’t worry, Daryl, you’re a natural. I guess a few private lessons with me later will do.”

It didn’t show on his face, but the grin was clearly audible in Rick’s voice.

          “Private lessons, huh?” Daryl caught on instantly. “Whadda ya have in mind – close combat?”

      “Uh-huh. Very close.”

Daryl’s lips twitched.

      “Wanna start beakin’ me in like now?” 

Rick lifted his head off Daryl’s shoulder and looked at him surprised.   
The expression in the archer’s eyes was calm and sincere and pulled him in instantly. Cupping Rick’s cheek, Daryl touched his lips gently to his boyfriend’s the next second and without applying any more pressure held the contact for a moment. Then he pulled back a little and looked Rick in the eyes, while his tongue traced his lips as though he was trying to figure out, if he had liked the previous sensation, or rather, if it was alright to have liked it.   
When his lips touched Rick’s once more, the contact wasn’t as chaste and soft as before and this time Daryl’s tongue traced the other man’s lips, not his own. Rick responded instantly. Months, the quarter of an entire year he’d been longing for this kiss, for holding Daryl in his arms again and now he finally had him back.   
For a second he was afraid to be too forward when his tongue darted out and met Daryl’s, but the archer didn’t flinch in the least – he deepened the kiss only too willingly, nibbling and licking Rick’s lips and having their tongues engaged in a passionate dance as though it wasn’t their first kiss in months, but their last for all times.   
The threat was there, lurking in the back of their minds, whether they meant to acknowledge it or not. They pressed closer, the kiss growing more and more ardent, almost desperate, while their fingers stroked through the other’s hair and both hearts were racing. 

When Daryl pulled back at last, he hid his face in the crook of Rick’s neck.

      “I remember this”, he said breathless.

      “Us kissing?”

      “Not just that. The feeling.” He pulled Rick closer again. “Ain’t just feelin’  _ great  _ kissin’ ya – feels  _ right.  _ With Carol it never did.”

Rick swallowed against a lump in his throat.

      “Daryl”, he asked cautiously, “you and Carol … did you …? I mean, did you have …”

      “Don’t beat yerself up, Rick. Ain’t important. Whatever Carol did with her husband – ‘twasn’t me. ‘Twas that Dennis dude and he died along with her _. I _ ‘s always yers, ya know that.” 

Rick turned his head and placed a kiss on Daryl’s neck.

      “Yes, I know.” 

There was silence for a moment, then Rick added gloomily:

      “Maybe we should have run off together after all.”

A sad smile tugged at Daryl’s lips. 

      “Yeah, that plan sounds better ta me by the day.”   


	20. Chapter 20

The moment Jesus walked through the door of the study, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared in the direction of the desk.   
He had expected to find Maggie here. Had _hoped_ to find her here. Instead he looked straight into Rose Mitchell’s stern face and couldn’t help his jaw from hitting the ground.   
The nurse was seated on what used to be Gregory’s _throne_ and she had her stumpy legs rested on top of the desk, a glass of the finest Scotch in one hand. 

       “Skol!” she commented, before taking a swig.

Jesus’ blue eyes even widened, then he wordlessly turned on his heels and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him. A second later he came back in and sighed deeply.  
        
       “Damn. Thought maybe I was just halluzinating or something and you’d be gone next time I come in.” 

       “Could have told you, that doesn’t work”, she replied dryly. “I’ve been doing that for years, but you’re still here.

Pulling a face, he walked over to her and leaned on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

       “Mind telling me what you’re doing? As far as I know, that’s the chair of the person running this town.”

       “Uh-huh”, Rose replied, refilling her glass. “So?”

       “Come on, Rose, it was perfectly okay to not respect Gregory’s authority,  but …”

The elderly women couldn’t help chuckling. 

       “His  _ what _ ? That man was as much a person of authority as your name is Jesus.”  
She ignored his eye-roll, struggled to get her legs off the table and and got up with a moan.   
       “Just for the record – I highly respect the person currently running this town and thank the good Lord above for his wisdom to make it a woman, so things are finally handled the right way around here. I just wanted to do this for a long time and with you people planning a war, figured a Scotch was definitely appropriate.”  
She thought about that for a second and then shrugged.  
       “Well, let’s say it doesn’t hurt.”  
Suppressing a hickup she frowned suddenly.  
       “Why am I talking to you? What do you want here?” 

He suppressed an amused smile about Rose apparently being slightly tipsy. 

       “I was looking for Maggie.”

Rose put the glass down and her features darkened.

       “She’s resting. She was having false labor earlier today and Harlan confined her to bed immediately. It’s too early. The baby shouldn’t be due till next month, so he ordered her to lie down and  _ stay _ in bed for the time being. It’s all been too much for her lately.” 

The young man cursed under his breath.

       “Anything I can do?”

For a moment Rose gave him a scrutiny, then she straightened up and walked around the desk to give him a hearty slap to the shoulder. 

       “Be her right-hand man. Go find your balls and do what she needs you to do. Be a leader, instead of hiding behind whoever’s in charge and rather braid your hair than take responsibility.” 

       “I am not brai … “

       “Shut up. Just because I told you to find your balls, doesn’t mean you can get fresh with  _ me _ , Paul Rovia.”

She headed to the door to go see to her patients in the upstairs rooms, but then stopped once more and turned back around to Jesus.

       “Where’s your coat?” she ask with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

He shrugged.

       “Daryl sort of convinced me to stop wearing it.”

       “He did, huh?” 

She crossed her arms before her chest and just looked at the long-haired man silently, until he started to squirm uncomfortably.

       “What?” When he saw her raise an eyebrow, he couldn’t help blushing.  “You knew?” 

       “Honey, I’m old, not dead. And the way you were looking at Daryl was as subtle as a neon sign on Times Square.”

       “Well, yeah, let’s just say he made it quite clear that if I wouldn’t stop, he was gonna extinguish my lights personally and for good.” 

Rose started to giggle, but composed herself quickly again when she saw the sad expression in Jesus’ eyes. 

       “Paul, we both know you didn’t really have a crush on Daryl, so don’t try to convince yourself to be heartbroken now. Whichever part of you was interested in him was clearly below the waistline and you were definitely backing the wrong horse. This might come as a surprise, but Daryl’s a devoted soul and not interested in meaningless flings. And neither should you.”

Jesus sighed audibly.

       “There aren’t too many choices for a guy like me, you know.”

       “What exactly does ‘a guy like me’ mean?”

       “Gay, Rose.”

With a snort she waved the comment off.

       “Nonsense. Chances are fifty-fifty with each guy you meet and if you wouldn’t act like such a clown all the time, someone looking for a serious relationship might even notice you. – If they are not too picky as far as looks are concerned”, she added with a smirk. 

Jesus did have a good sense of humor and she would have expected him to smile about her teasing, but for once the blue eyes remained sad. Whatever Daryl had said to him obviously hit home and had Jesus thinking. Had him take a closer look at his life and his approach to relationships and apparently he did not like what he was  seeing. 

When Jesus didn’t reply, Rose sighed audibly and picked up again.  
       “You know, Daryl has nothing to prove. I know he’s got little reason to be proud of where he comes from, but Rick loving him  _ because  _ of who he is, not despite it, makes him proud of being Daryl Dixon. He doesn’t need to hide behind an alias, doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not. He’s genuine and he’s true to himself, and that’s what people respect and love. – So stop trying to walk on water and have the guts to be Paul Rovia. You might be surprised how likable that guy is. Pff, maybe I’m gonna be, too.” 

When she saw the ghost of a smile appear on his face, she turned on her heels with a satisfied nod and headed to the door to finally see to her patients. Standing in the doorway, she added:

       “When you’re at the Kingdom for that training, go see if they have a room available. Because I swear to God, if you ever find that fool who’s looking for a silly dude like you, your days at the Hilltop are numbered. This town’s too small for two of your kind and me, just so you know.” 

 

It had been a week since that fateful day the Saviors had visited last, the Hilltop had seen a change in leadership and Daryl Dixon had found a way out of the dark void in his head. 

With weary steps Rick approached the door of his and Daryl’s room and sighed deeply. He felt each muscle in his body and was certain to have aged about ten years minimum during the past week.   
More people from the Kingdom had arrived to be trained with the Hilltop residents and since Maggie was still confined to bed – obeying for once – it was up to Rick, Glenn and Jesus to share supervision of the training.   
       They worked together perfectly well and more than once during the past days, Rick had wondered just why Daryl didn’t like Jesus. The man had the patience of a saint and a good sense of humor, he was reliable and worked hard. Daryl remained silent about his reasons to not appreciate Maggie’s right-hand man, but he wasn’t making any threats or dropping insults any longer, either, which was a start. 

Quietly Rick opened the door and peeked in. Daryl was still resting a lot – miraculously also obeying doctor’s or rather nurse’s orders – and Rick didn’t mean to wake him.   
Daryl needed the rest and Alexandria’s leader was totally aware of the reason why his partner had his mind set on getting well as quickly as possible – so he could be in the frontline of the upcoming battles right next to his man. Not primarily to do his share in putting an end to the Saviors, but to protect Rick; to make sure nothing would ever happen to him. Regardless of his own health, Daryl would be there.   
Maybe this was why Rick was working like a man possessed to get everybody else trained as well as only possible. So they could all do their part, be in that frontline, too, and diminish the threat for his family, especially for Daryl. 

A frown spread over Rick’s tired features when he found the bed empty. A moment later he noticed Daryl standing at the window, dressed only in his boxers, watching the training in the square.   
With a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the younger man silently walked over to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around Daryl’s middle from behind. He pulled him close and started placing small kisses on the archer’s neck and shoulder, while Daryl covered Rick’s hands in front of his stomach with his own and started to tenderly run his fingers over the other man’s forearms. 

       “Still amazes me how you can recognize people by sound alone”, Rick whispered in Daryl’s ear, while nibbling the older man’s ear lobe.

       “Makes ya think I recognized ya?” Daryl replied with a suppressed smirk. 

Rick played along.

       “Because I don’t think, you’d allow just anybody to come in here and do  _ this. _ ” 

He let his tongue trace the rim of Daryl’s ear, that teasingly stuck out of the archer’s long hair, while pressing closer to him. 

       “Think so?” Daryl teased. “Nothin’ to it.” 

       “That so? What about  _ this?” _

The hands on the archer’s belly started sliding south and slowly and teasingly Rick’s slender fingers creeped their way into the waistband of Daryl’s boxers and gently stroked the archer’s semi-hardened member. Daryl moaned.

       “’kay, there may be some restrictions …Ah, what the fuck.” He had tried to still play along, but then turned around in Rick’s arms suddenly and pressed his lips crushingly to his boyfriend’s, while backing him up towards the bed. 

Rick fell over backwards when his legs collided with the bed and pulled Daryl along. The archer ended up lying half on top of the younger man, all the while never stopping to kiss him. 

       “Rose”, he gasped in between ardent kisses, “ordered me ta stay in bed.”

His hands disappeared into Rick’s shirt, while the leader had his fingers get entangled in Daryl’s hair.  
        
       “Best do”, Rick muttered into his lover’s mouth, “as the lady says.” 

       “Uh-huh”, Daryl grumbled with his tongue in Rick’s mouth, before gasping: “Ma thought exactly.” 

With a rough jerk he pulled the shirt over Rick’s head and his lips closed around one of the younger man’s nipples almost instantly, having Rick give a deep, throaty moan. Resuming his nibbling and kissing, Daryl’s hand started to open Rick’s belt and the button of his pants. Even before his fingers closed around his lover’s cock, Rick had grown hard. It had been way too long and he wanted Daryl with ever fibre of his being.   
He pulled his boyfriend back up for another deep kiss, while the archer moved to lie on top of him, rubbing his own hardened cock against Rick’s in a foretaste of what was to follow.

       “Rose’s gonna kill me”, Rick groaned, the sensation of Daryl rubbing against him sending electrical charges through his entire body. 

       “Not before I’m done with ya”, the archer croaked out. “And now shut up and get rid a’ ‘em pants already.” 

Daryl’s hand on his junk once again had Rick arch his back with a loud gasp, about to comply only too willingly, when the door opened and Jesus marched into the room.

       “Rick, we need to ta … oops.”

For a second the heavy breathing of the two lovers was the only sound in the room. Then a pillow hit Jesus square in the face, accompanied by Daryl’s killer scowl. Rolling off his partner with gritted teeth, he struggled to get up.

       “Stay put”, he said to Rick with a furious growl in his voice, “just gonna kill that sonuvabitch real quick. Be right back.” 

Rick pulled him back down and placed a hand flat on his chest.

       “You’re supposed to be lying down. Doctor’s orders.”  
He whirled around and stood in front of Jesus with blazing eyes the next second.  
       “ _ I’m  _ gonna kill him.”

Jesus took a precautious step back and raised his hands defensively, while he suppressed a grin. This time is was most obviously Rick, who would have needed a coat, and seeing Daryl only in his boxers, that were unable to hide the impressive bulge, was about as good as it would ever get. So he chose to enjoy the current situation despite its awkwardness. 

       “What?” Rick snapped, and the amusement on Jesus’ face faded instantly. 

There was a reason for him being here and the news he had, wasn’t good. 

       “We got a message from Alexandria”, he started seriously. “Negan was there a few hours ago and … things got out of hand again.”

He saw Rick grow pale and Daryl sit up fast. 

       “They killed two of your people.” 

       “Carl?” Rick asked instantly, simultaneous to Daryl’s “Judith?”

Jesus shook his head.

       “Your kids are alright”, he reassured the two agitated men. “Allegedly it’s a certain Spencer and a girl named Olivia. And they beat up your friend Aaron.”

Rick’s knees buckled and he sank onto the edge of the bed with an idle glance and tears pooling in his eyes. Daryl was right behind him the next moment to wrap his arms around him, resting his head gently against Rick’s. Knitting his brow, he cast a glance in Jesus’ direction.  
        
       “Hey, go close the door from outside”, the archer grumbled, watching as Jesus nodded with a sigh and turned to leave the room.   
Before he reached it, Daryl added softer:  
   “Thanks for tellin’ us. We’re gonna come over ta Maggie’s room in a bit. – Maybe it’s time ta have ‘em pigeons flyin’.” 

Jesus nodded again.

       “I’ll tell her.”

With that said he left and shut the door behind him.   
It was deadly quiet in the room while Rick sat motionless in his spot. He appeared numbed, but inside, his thoughts and emotions were in turmoil.  He barely noticed the movement of the matress behind him and flinched, when a shadow appeared in front of him the next moment. Daryl held out his hand to him, his expression calm and determined.

       “C’mon.” He reached for his boyfriend’s hand and pulled him up. “It’s time.

When the younger man stood before him, he placed his hands gently on Rick’s shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze, while Rick wrapped his arms around Daryl’s middle once again.

       “You don’t have to go to that meeting, Daryl. Best rest some more, while …”

       “Rick. Told ya I ‘s with ya once. Meant it, too. And not just that one time – always. As long as … we’re alive together.”

Rick swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and fought back tears, as he pulled the archer into his arms.  
          _As long as we’re alive together._

       “Each time we’re here, I almost just lost you. And just when I got you back, there’s new battles ahead.”

       “Yeah, this place sucks”, Daryl replied softly, trying to lift Rick’s spirit.  
He pulled back and looked into the blurry eyes of his boyfriend.  
       “Hey, we gotta do this. It needs ta end and we  _ will  _ end it. For Carl. And Judith.”  
He pecked Rick’s lips.  
       “Keep in mind where we was interrupted. Gonna pick up where we left off after we do some serious ass-kicking.”

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corners of Rick’s mouth as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Daryl’s. They just stood like that for a moment, then Daryl pulled in a deep breath and said:

       “Got something I wanna tell ya.”

When he didn’t continued, Rick prompted:  
        
       “So tell me.”

       “Not now. After the war is won. Gonna tell ya then.”

Rick pulled the archer closer and embraced him almost crushingly.   
He knew exactly, what Daryl meant to tell him. The most precious thing anyone could say to another. The most important one, too. Yet apparently those words were the hardest to say or were reserved for a very special moment too often – a moment that may never come.   
Rick remembered how much it pained Tara that Denise had never actually said “I love you”. Maybe sometimes it was just necessary to hear those words. 

       “Tell me”, Rick whispered almost pleadingly. “I need to …”

       “Gonna tell ya then”, Daryl repeated, while tenderly running a hand over his lover’s back. “As long as ‘em words ain’t said, our story ain’t over. So ya can’t die on me, ya hear me, Grimes?”

A stray tear ran down Rick’s cheek.

       “Deal. You can’t die on me, either, you know. Because there’s something I gotta ask you. Then.” 

They just held each other quietly after that for what felt like an eternity, neither one willing to let go. In the end it was Rick, who pulled back and pecked Daryl’s lips.

       “We gotta go.”

They got dressed silently, watching each other out of the corners of their eyes as though they were reluctant to let each other out of sight ever again. When they finally stood in front of each other, ready to head over to Maggie and Glenn’s room, a smile spread over both their faces.

       “Like what yer wearin’ ”, Daryl commented.

Rick laughed. Their clothes matched exactly. They were both sporting black jeans and black shirts, with the sleeves rolled up.

       “Maybe we should make this some kind of uniform for our group”, Rick started, but stopped when Daryl shook his head instantly. 

       “Nah, ain’t for everybody. ‘s between you and me. Lovers thing, ya know.” 

The idea moved Rick and for a moment he just looked Daryl deep in the eyes. Then a thoughtful air came to his face.

       “A couple of weeks ago, I was at Michonne’s grave.”

A frown flashed over the archer’s face, surprised that Rick would bring this up now, but he trusted his boyfriend to have a reason for it, so he asked:

       “Ya miss her?”

       “I miss all of them. Everyone we lost, but she … She was strong. She was … special and … I didn’t know what to do. Had been looking for you for months and I was … losing hope there for a while. I thought, if there was anyone able to gimme a sign, it’d be her.”

       “What sign?”

       “Dunno. Anything to let me know, if you … if maybe you were …”

       “Dead? You went to ‘chonne’s grave and bothered the poor woman with the question, if I ‘s there with her, wherever that’s supposed ta be? Ya gave up and still dared show yer face there? Man, yer lucky ya didn’t get hit by lightning or somethin’.”

Despite himself, Rick had to laugh. 

       “Got yer sign?” Daryl asked softer.

       “No. She probably chose to ignore a stupid question like that. But that stone we put on her grave … The one we marked ‘D’ and ‘R’ … I left it with the ‘D’ side up back then. Did you turn it around before we left?”

       “Sure. ‘cause ya was far more important ta her. And yer more important ta me. Ta all of us.”  
        
       “Not all. I turned it back around.” 

       “Why?”

       “Because there are people who value you far more than me. This is what Carol and I had in common. And Tara. And, you know, I think even li’l Judy would agree with me there.”

Daryl shrugged.

       “Ain’t no competition for people’s affection, Rick. Let’s just say, it’s a draw then.”

       “This wasn’t primarily why I turned the ‘D’ side up. But because I think ‘defiance’ is far more important than ‘revenge’. Revenge is just a moment, an act to satisfy and still feelings of hate and fury. But defiance is an attitude. It’s gonna last, gonna be a part of us, make us stronger than the blind striving for revenge ever could.”

He saw Daryl barely noticeable nod his agreement and paused for a moment to look deep into the archer’s eyes.

       “I’d like to be part of the ‘D’ side. And one day I hope that letter will stand for both of us.”

       “Does that have somethin’ ta do with what ya was gonna ask me?”

Rick nodded slowly.

       “And the answer may have something to do with what you were gonna tell me.”

Simultaneously they leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the other one’s lips.

       “We’re gonna talk about this after the war is won.”

       “Yeah, after the war is won.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it.   
> I'd like to thank everyone who took the time over the past weeks to read this story and to leave kudos and the much appreciated comments. It was lots of fun writing this story and even greater fun sharing it with you guys and getting so much wonderful feedback.   
> That was truly encouraging. Thank you!
> 
> And thanks again to stylepoints for her excellent beta work, so a gazillion unnecessary commas were deleted and some entirely funny sentences became standard English. :-)


	21. Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally not necessary epilogue, but I kinda liked the idea.  
> It's for all of you who thought there should have been a little _more_.
> 
> Hope you'll like it!

Empty  
**_\- Epilogue to “In memories lost, in memories found“ –_**

 

Deep in thought, Rick walked down the street to his house, not looking left or right, and not really seeing anything that was right in front of his feet, either.   
Said feet felt like they were made of lead, as did his heart. It shouldn’t have come to this, but it had. Again. As so many times before. Too many times. Another war had just started.  
Some days he wondered if to go on fighting was worthwhile. Each time they had won one war, the next was already lurking at the horizon. It never stopped. There would always be people like Negan, like the Governor, like the assholes at Terminus – and as long as there were people, there would be walkers. There was no victory, there was just ceasefire before the next battle. 

Rick was tired. This constant swimming against the tide was wearing him out, but stopping, if only for a moment, meant drowning. So they had to keep going, always.    
It was discouraging and exhausting and some times Rick would have loved to just give in, give up the fight, drown and fade into sweet oblivion. Was this even a life worth living?

When he got nearer to his house, a lone figure sitting on top of the stairs caught his eye and had his heart skip a beat.   
Despite himself a smile tugged at Rick’s lips suddenly and he had the answer to his question sitting right there on the front porch of his house, smoking a cigarette and casting him a calm look out of shadow blue eyes.  
This life _was_ worth living, as long as there were _people_ worth living for – and worth dying for. 

Wordlessly Rick let himself sink onto the step next to Daryl and touched his shoulder gently to his boyfriend’s. 

It had been two weeks since they had returned from the Hilltop. Two weeks since Olivia and Spencer had been killed by Negan. Two weeks since Carol and Gregory had died, and Maggie had been elected chief of the Hilltop with Jesus as her right-hand man. Two weeks since Rose had given both Rick and Daryl a hearty farewell hug and had _promised_ to give them a spanking personally, if they ever again dared to disobey her clear order to take care of each other.   
Unlike the two weeks when Tara and Heath had been on their run and all hell had broken loose in the meantime, these past two weeks had been quiet. Unusually, eerily, _threateningly_ quiet. – The calm before the storm. 

Wearily Rick rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Daryl cast him a glance from the side, before dropping the butt of his smoke and stubbing it out with the tip of his shoe. 

         “D’ya do it?” he asked seriously.

The younger man gave a curt nod and sighed again.

         “Yeah. The pigeons are flying. As of now, we’re at war.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Daryl said:

         “Opposite a’ war ain’t necessarily peace, Rick. ‘s not like we was losin’ a blissful life in the land a’ milk ‘n’ honey.”

         “Still. A war is a war, Daryl. People are gonna die.”

         “People are dyin’ every damn day, Rick. Whether we keep on kneelin’ ta the prick or not – we’re doin’ the dyin’ nevertheless. He’s gonna press the last outta us and then toss us like a squashed lemon. Ain’t never gonna be enough. Ain’t never gonna end. _We’re_ gonna end it.”

The archer’s inflection was bitter, angry, hateful. 

         “Hey”, Rick leaned forward and cocked his head to be able to look his partner in the eyes, “defiance, not revenge, remember?” 

         “Nah”, the reply came as sharp as a gunshot. “Sometimes revenge is just what’s needed, man. And it is now. They ain’t gettin’ away with what they’ve done. None a’ ‘em, especially not Negan – and Dwight.”

Rick saw cold fury burn in Daryl’s eyes and furrowed his brow. 

         “What is it with that Dwight dude? What happened when you were out there with Sasha and Abe that you’re not telling me?”

The archer looked away, before reaching wordlessly into his pocket for the pack of smokes and lighting another one.

         “Don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.”

         “No shit”, Rick said with a sarcastic inflection. 

         “Ain’t yer problem. ‘s between me and that prick. I’ll settle it.”

         “No.” Anger flared up in Rick’s azure blue eyes. “You still don’t get it, do you? Nothing is ever just _your_ problem that’s not mine all the same. You and I … we’re one, God damnit. Two sides of one stone, remember? We’re in this together.”

         “Nah, not in this.”

         “Especially in this.” Rick’s voice had grown louder with agitation. “There’s never been any crisis you let me handle all by myself, considering it to be my problem, not yours. And I always appreciated the backup. – Don’t shut me out now. Let me do the same for you.” 

After a short pause in which he took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself, Rick added a silent: “Please.”

Daryl exhaled the blue smoke into the cool autumn air and gritted his teeth. 

He never wanted to burden Rick with his problems, with his heartaches, with his fury, but apparantly the leader was even more bothered by Daryl retreating into his shell and denying him to be part in all of this. Rick wasn’t afraid to be pulled into the dark abyss Daryl was obviously lost in – he was afraid not to.

For a moment Daryl just sat frozen with an idle glance, then he hesitatingly started to fill the leader in about what happened in the burned forest. 

Rick listened silently, his eyes wide when he started to understand. Understand for the first time ever since that day months back, why Daryl returned to Alexandria a changed man.    
The archer had loved his new job as second recruiter and had tirelessly put emphasis on the importance of finding and bringing in new people. He had come so far since Rick first met him outside of Atlanta years back. Right after the outbreak Daryl had been antisocial, a loner, not willing – or able – to trust anyone. But step by step he had opened up, had dared expose his vulnerable heart and trust in people despite all the bad experiences he had had in his life.   
The day he had come home with Abraham and Sasha something seemed to have died in him, but Rick never knew what happened, what caused the changed.    
He had figured it was running into that biker gang and having to kill all of them, only to return to an overrun Alexandria and finding Carl shot. That in addition to their latest encounters with the Savior and the Wolves had Daryl change his mind about trusting people, or so Rick had thought. It would have been a good explanation and an entirely understandable reaction. 

Rick had no idea about his boyfriend’s far more personal experiences in the burned forest and it pained him deeply in that moment. Not only to learn about what Daryl had to go through and see the man he loved getting hurt in that way, but the mere fact that Daryl hadn’t trusted him enough to _tell_ him about all that. 

         “That was months ago”, the younger man said almost inaudibly after Daryl had fallen quiet. “I always wondered why you never went on any recruiting trips with Aaron anymore or so fiercely spoke against finding new people all of a sudden. I didn’t understand. _Couldn’t._ Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The archer took another deep drag from his smoke.

         “Ain’t got nothin’ ta do with ya. Sonuvabitch killed Denise. And he shot me. ‘s personal, ‘s all.”

         “No. That happened long after the burned forest, Daryl. You came back that day and you had changed and I never knew why.”

With a snort, Daryl tossed the cigarette butt onto the sidewalk and stood the next moment, unable to sit still any longer.

         “Carl had just been shot and this place was overrun, man, ‘twas hardly the time ta go whine to ya ‘bout some pricks tramplin’ on ma feelings. Ya had other things ta worry ‘bout. And I’m used ta that kinda shit.” 

         “I know”, Rick said calmly, “that doesn’t mean you have to take it and shoulder everything on your own. That’s what I’m trying to tell you here. No matter what, you were always there when I needed you. I … I just … I’d like you to need me the way I need you.”

Daryl stopped his pacing and just looked Rick in the eyes for a long moment.

         “I do”, he croaked finally. “That’s why I didn’t tell ya. Not ‘cause I don’t trust ya or don’t consider this yer business. ‘Cause yer still doin’ enough of the heavy liftin’ and I ain’t gonna put more on yer shoulders.”

With an understanding nod the younger man stood, too, and just looked at Daryl silently for a moment. Then he pulled him into a tight embrace.

         “It’d be easier, if we just did the heavy lifting together. Always.” He paused for a moment, before adding unexpectately:   
          “There’s still something I wanna ask you.”

He felt Daryl tense up immediately. The archer took a step back, chewing his lower lip for a second before muttering:

         “Ya said ya was gonna ask me after we stomped their asses.”

         “I know. But … we’re going to war, Daryl, and …”

         “And we’re gonna come back, too” the archer replied stubbornly. “Ya was supposed ta ask me _then_. That was the deal.” 

The younger man’s eyes got blurry all of a sudden and he swallowed in order to fight back the tears before they fell.

         “I know. But …”

         “No buts, man. Told ya ta tell me after, so ya can’t die on me. Stick to the deal, will ya?”

He started pacing again.

         “Damnit, Daryl”, Rick started, his inflection almost desperate, “this is important, don’t you get it? I have to do this now or I might regret it forever.”

         “No. Yer gonna regret it, if ya do.”

         “If a couple of unspoken words are the only thing that’s keeping you alive, then maybe they are not even worth saying.”

Dary’s head whipped around and his eyes darted over to his boyfriend.

         “Ain’t true and ya know it.”

         “But you don’t want me to ask”, Rick said flatly, a tinge of sadness clearly peppering his inflection.

Breathing in deep, Daryl took a step closer to him, deadpanning as usual when he had an infinite amount of emotions to hide.

         “I don’t fear the question”, he said almost inaudibly. “’s just … I ain’t got no answer.”

         “Oh.”

Rick couldn’t stand looking into his partner’s eyes all of a sudden and hung his head in an almost defeated way.

         “No, you don’t get it.” Daryl reached out a hand and got hold of Rick’s wrist to get his lover’s attention. And because he needed the contact just now.   
         “Know how I feel for ya. And ‘s not like I wouldn’t want …” He broke off and sighed deeply. “I just don’t get why this ‘s so important to ya. Wearin’ a ring on ma finger ain’t gonna make me feel any different for ya than I do now. And ‘s not like people were drawing numbers ta get a lay with me, but even if … There ain’t no need for official promises first for me ta tell ‘em all ta go to hell.”   
His features darkened.   
         “And changin’ ma name ain’t gonna change what I am.”

Rick’s brow furrowed.

         “I sure hope not”, he said calmly. “And I wasn’t gonna ask you to change your name. Remember what I said to you in the Hilltop? That I was hoping the ‘D’ would stand for both of us one day?”

Daryl’s eyes widened.

         “Thought ya was talking about the ‘defiance’ thing.

         “That, too. But actually I meant your name.”  
          
         “Ya wanna be called ‘Daryl’, too?” the archer tried a weak attempt on joking.

The joke fell flat. Rick didn’t react to it at all, but ran his hand through his curls with a weary sigh. 

         “You’re right. Wearing a ring or changing one’s name doesn’t make a difference – and yet it changes everything. That’s why people do it, Daryl. It’s symbolic, it _means_ something … Why are you matching your clothes to mine these days?”

         “Like yer style?” 

         “Daryl …”

The archer averted his eyes and started chewing on his thumbnail instead. After a long, silent moment he replied:

         “I get what yer sayin’, Rick, ’s just … I don’t think ya know what yer gettin’ yerself into. The other day over in the Kingdom someone called a dude named Dennis and I thought he meant me. I wake up some mornings confused to find ya next to me and not Carol.”

He dropped his arm to his side and pulled in a deep breath, before he started pacing again.

         “I’m a mess and I can’t trust maself. Can’t expect anyone else to. You least of all. ‘s like that Simon prick said – ‘m damaged goods and ya deserve better.”

Rick’s hand on his shoulders stopped him dead in his tracks.

         “There is no ‘better’.”

         “Pff”, Daryl tried to shrug off Rick’s hands, “don’t sell yerself short.”

The leader’s grip even tightened.

         “I’m not. What does it take to make you understand and _believe_ that you are totally worth all the love and appreciation you’re getting? It’s not just me. Judy and Carl, Carol, Denise, Beth, our entire group, _Rose_ … Do you still not know how much you mean to us?

         “If you’d said _Jesus_ now, I woulda had ta punch yer nose, man.” 

The remark had Rick smirk despite himself, but the smile faded the moment Daryl picked up with a sad expression:   
         “Carol, Denise and Beth … they’re dead. Just like Merle. People who love me die and you …”

         “Hey, stop that. That’s bullshit and you know it. Lori, Michonne and Jessie are dead, too, but so are countless other people. It’s not your fault or mine – it’s this blasted apocalyse.”   
He swallowed thickly.   
         “I know it’s unlikely for us to grow old together. I know it’s unlikely for anyone to grow old at all these days. Which is why I want us to spend every moment we still have together, as a couple.” 

They looked each other deep in the eyes for a moment and Rick could almost _see_ the little wheels in Daryl’s head turn.    
Finally the archer nodded wordlessly, before saying:

          “Gimme a minute. I gotta think ‘bout it.”

That said he leaned in and pecked Rick’s lips, before heading into the house.   
Five minutes passed without him returning while Rick stood motionless in the spot Daryl had left him in. After ten minutes Rick started pacing nervously as minutes seemed to stretch into hours.  
He just started to wonder, if maybe Daryl had slipped out the back door and had left town to avoid the answer, when the front door opened and the archer stepped onto the porch.   
Slowly he walked over to his partner and looked at him deadpan. Rick’s nerves were strung to breaking point.

         “Well?” he asked when Daryl still wouldn’t say anything.

         “I made a list”, the archer replied matter-of-factly. He showed Rick two pieces of paper he held in either hand and then added:   
         “Pro and con list of all the reasons ta get married – or not.”

Rick’s eyes widened about two sizes.

         “You made a list? I just popped the question and you … made a pro and con list!?”

He breathed in deep. This was so different from when he had proposed to Lori a felt lifetime ago. She had been laughing and crying at the same time back then, hugging him crushinly, excited beyond words – she sure as hell hadn’t thought about making a pro and a con list. Then again, she wasn’t Daryl Dixon. Nobody was like Daryl Dixon, which was precisely why Rick wanted him and no one else.

         “Maybe”, he started over, “this wasn’t romantic enough? Would you want me to kneel to …”

         “No!” Daryl had almost yelled at him. “Never. No more kneeling. Ta no one and for no reason, ever. Promise me that, Rick!” 

         “Alright already, I promise. It’s just … “  
          
         “C’mon, lemme do this ma way, ‘kay?” He hid his hands behind his back. “Left or right?” 

         “Oh man”, Rick sighed. “Both. If I just _left_ this alone now, it’d probably be the _right_ thing to do.”

         “Rick … “

          “Alright, left then.”

Daryl held out his left hand and nodded at the list.

          “That’s the pros”, he said calmly, his expression impossible to read, even for Rick. 

With a mercilessly pounding heart the younger man  slowly unfolded the sheet. When his eyes fell onto the written words he had to clench his teeth, fighting desperately with the turmoil of emotions that was raging inside of him.

         _I love you._

That was all it said. Just those three words. In any other case those would have been the most powerful and meaningful words there were – but would this single ‘pro’ be enough to withstand a list of ‘cons’?

         “I thought you wanted to tell me _after we stomped their asses_ ”, he said softly.

         “Didn’t tell ya nothing. Wrote it down. The deal still stands – gonna _tell_ ya after the war is won.” 

This had a smile tug on Rick’s lips. Dixon logic. 

Breathing in deep, he extended his slightly shaking hand to Daryl in a wordless request to hand him the other list. This was it. There was no turning back now. He wanted an answer and he was going to get it.   
Bit by bit he unfolded it, dreading what he may find, and gasped when his eyes fell onto the sheet at last.

His sight got blurry instantly despite his best attempt to hold back new tears.  

It was empty. Not _one_ word was written on it, and yet this blindingly white sheet held all the answers. 

When he looked up he found himself eye to eye with the archer, the ghost of a smile tugging on Daryl’s lips.    
The next second that smile was smothered when Rick pulled Daryl close and kissed him ardently, not minding in the least that they were standing in the middle of the street for everybody to see.

         “Hey”, Daryl pulled back half-heartedly, but didn’t even bother to check if anyone saw them at all. “No mushy scenes in public, Grimes.”

         “Dixon”, Rick said softly. “Told you I would like to be part of the ‘D’. 

Daryl’s eyes widened.

         “Ya weren’t kidding there? Ya wanna be a Dixon? Man, I thought ‘twas me who had that head injury.”

Rick didn’t answer to that. He just laughed, before he pulled his future husband into a tight hug once more.  

 

The war was won five months later. And the first piece of decoration Rick and Daryl hung over the fireplace of the official _Dixon_ residence, was a framed plain white, _empty_ piece of paper.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading. I totally LOVE feedback, so please take a minute to drop me a line. Let me know what you think. It's highly appreciated.
> 
> Btw, the perfect song to this story is "Somewhere" by Within Temptation.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFBU3tIL2Qo
> 
> I think, the lyrics could very well be Rick's thoughts and emotions.
> 
>  
> 
> _Lost in the darkness_  
>  Hoping for a sign  
> Instead there's only silence  
> Can't you hear my screams?
> 
>  
> 
> _Never stop hoping_  
>  Need to know where you are  
> But one thing's for sure  
> You're always in my heart
> 
>  
> 
> _I'll find you somewhere_  
>  I'll keep on trying  
> Until my dying day  
> I just need to know  
> Whatever has happened  
> The truth will free my soul
> 
>  
> 
> _Lost in the darkness_  
>  Tried to find your way home  
> I want to embrace you  
> And never let you go
> 
>  
> 
> _Almost hope you're in heaven_  
>  So no one can hurt your soul  
> Living in agony  
> Cause I just do not know  
> Where you are
> 
>  
> 
> _I'll find you somewhere_  
>  I'll keep on trying  
> Until my dying day  
> I just need to know  
> Whatever has happened  
> The truth will free my soul
> 
>  
> 
> _Wherever you are_  
>  I won't stop searching  
> Whatever it takes me to know
> 
>  
> 
> _I'll find you somewhere_  
>  I'll keep on trying  
> Until my dying day  
> I just need to know  
> Whatever has happened  
> The truth will free my soul


End file.
